The Cure
by ArabellaFaith
Summary: Hermione is under a evil curse, and there is only one man who can help her- the reluctant Severus Snape. Can he find her cure and save her? Will it bring them together, or tear him apart? **Update: if you're looking for some smut (cuz lets face it, sometimes you just want a little smut!), look in chapter 6! ; ) Mature readers please!
1. Chapter 1

***_Decided to put a few songs with this one. If you're familiar with my other stories, you already know how my music works, if not, here's the deal: I do not write songfics, but I like to put a soundtrack of sorts with my stories. They are suggested listening that go well with the chapters I pair them to. They almost all have videos on youtube you can listen to them for free on. Hope you enjoy, and I'll update soon!****_

Chapter One-Behind Blue Eyes, the Who (There is also a version of this song done more recently that is very decent if you prefer. This song is one of two that I consider Snape's anthem-despite the fact that he does't have blue eyes haha- and I strongly suggest that you listen to it, or at the very least read the lyrics!)

Spinners end. The road was dirty and winding. The houses lining the street were little more than shacks. Small run down buildings with pathetic brown lawns surrounding them. The street was empty now, not a single soul in sight. Hermione wasn't sure if it was because all the inhabitants had moved onto more prosperous dwellings or if those that lived here were too ashamed to show themselves in this dismal place. It didn't matter. She was only here for one person. One person who _had _to be here. He was her last hope. She took a deep breath to steady herself and walked silently towards the house at the end of the street.

Severus Snape watched her come. Not a single magical being could step foot on this street without him knowing. He'd made sure of it. In the beginning there had been those curious witches or wizards coming to see the man who'd survived, the man who'd duped the dark lord. The man who'd loved a woman so much that he'd dedicated almost twenty years of his life to protecting her orphaned son. Then there had been the ones wishing to rekindle friendships with him. Ministry agents, other professors, even a few ex students. Wanting to get to know the 'real him.' And of course there were the thrill seekers. The ones that just wanted to get the rush of having faced Severus Snape.

He wasn't sure which of them he detested most. Dumbledore had sworn to him that no one would know about his love for Lily Evans. The old man had promised that he would take it to his grave. And he had...but when Severus had thought he was dying, he'd given the Potter boy too much. Not just his memories proving he wasn't a traitor or the memories telling him about the snake being a Horcrux or that Harry would have to die for Voldermort to be killed. He'd given him everything. His memories of first meeting Lily, their time at Hogwarts together, begging Dumbledore to find a way to save Lily...

And none of it would have mattered if he'd just fucking died. He was supposed to have died. What use was this life to him now? It was over. He'd done what he set out to do. He'd never imagined he would have to face the world again when it was all over. But Potter had lived too. He supposed he should be grateful for that. He'd spent the better part of his life protecting the boy. But since Potter had survived, after the war he'd testified on Severus' behalf to clear him of charges that he was a murderer and a traitor. It had been a closed court, but still the rumors had spread. Severus Snape and his great love, Lily Potter.

And of course it wasn't just the curious ones that heard the rumors. Those coming to rekindle friendships had also heard them. They came with ambition or pity in their eyes. Ministry agents wanting to make a hero out of him. Offering him jobs. Ex colleagues offering support. The same people who had tried to curse him and kill him only a little while before. Had any one of them bothered to think that maybe, just maybe after two decades of service to Dumbledore, that it was possible that he was still doing the older wizards work? But no. Everyone had turned on him. All of them. He'd played his part too well. What use did he have for friends who thought the worst of him, even for a brief time?

At least the thrill seekers weren't coming to gape at him or offer him fucking pity. With a tiny flick of magic he could send them screaming on their way, with a story to brag about of how they survived visiting the house where Severus Snape lived.

As he stood in his bedroom looking out over the street through the dirty window, he wondered what category Miss Granger would fall into. Was she coming with questions about Lily? To offer her shoulder to cry on should he need it? Or just coming to say that she'd done it?

He assumed based on what he knew of her that she fell into the second category. She'd shown a startling capacity to forgive in her time at school. After all, her friends _were _Weasley and Potter. She needed heaps of compassion and understanding and forgiveness in order to put up with those block heads for as long as she had. So was she here to tell him how sorry she was for his unrequited love? That she was willing to be friends with _Snivilleous_ now that he'd been cleared of all charges?

Well he wouldn't give her the chance. With a wordless flick of his wand the street became dark. Storm clouds gathered and closed in oppressively. Her head came up and she looked at the sky not with fear, but curiosity. Severus felt a small pang of grudging respect. Then again, she'd faced the dark lord himself and not quailed. With another flick he sent the wind howling down the dark road. Broken shudders and doors banged wildly. Dust rose up obediently to his will. In the tiny swirling particles he pushed a little magic. They formed malicious beings that stalked towards the girl.

Girl? Was she a girl? The Hermione coming forward was a woman, not a girl. When had that happened? When had she grown from the awkward, gangly know it all with bushy hair and buck teeth to the calm, commanding woman striding up his street with undaunted determination? With a flash of her wand and a muttered word he couldn't hear, Hermione scattered the beings back to dust. Her eyes went up to the window where Severus stood. He started to back away and then forced himself to remain where he was. She couldn't see him, not through his enchantments. He allowed himself to feel the smallest bit impressed by her. There was no harm in faulting her intelligence; how many people had hailed her the brightest witch of her age? And of course her courage couldn't be questioned. She was a Gryffendor, after all. He felt his lip curl at the thought.

With another wordless spell he dropped every outside deterrent and focused his will on his repellant charm. She walked into the barrier and found herself facing the opposite direction. She'd only taken two steps when she stopped and shook her head as if to clear it. She turned and walked into the repellant charm once more. This time she didn't take a single step after she'd been turned. Severus could practically see the wheels in her head turning.

She faced the barrier again but was careful not to touch it. Then she determinedly pointed her wand at it, took a deep breath, and stepped through it. Severus was slightly shocked in spite of himself. Minerva McGonnigal had been the only other person who'd made it through the barrier. Then it occurred to him. _Of course_. The new headmistress must have sent her star pupil in her stead since she'd failed to bring him back to Hogwarts herself.

With a disgusted sigh he apparated outside to meet her. No one aside from Dumbledore had set foot inside his home for twenty years. That wasn't about to change now. When she looked up, she gasped in surprise and quickly covered it. Her keen brown eyes took in his long black robes and swallow skin. Had she expected him to look different now that he was a _hero_?

"Miss Granger," he drawled in that silky, menacing way of his. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" His voice was tight enough not to leave any room for her to assume it actually was a pleasure.

"Professor Snape," his name escaped her lips more like a prayer of gratitude than a greeting. Then she cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. "Severus," she spoke his name with clarity as if daring him to chastise her for using it. He curled his lip in disdain but did not say anything. "I," she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear in a curiously vulnerable gesture. "Minerva told me where to find you."

"Of course she did," he said flatly. "You can tell the headmistress that I have not reconsidered her offer. It is not now, nor will it ever be my intention to return to Hogwarts." He turned away but could still sense her standing behind him. "Run along now, little owl, and convey my message to the puppeteer pulling your strings."

"I am not here to try and convince you to return to school!" There was such anguish in her tone that Severus turned to face her once more. "Minerva told me where to find you because she agrees with me that you are the only one who can help me." She took a step closer to him. Severus forced himself not to take a step back from her.

"And what could you possibly need my help with, Miss Granger?" He looked down his nose at her, mildly surprised that she stared back at him, unblinking.

"A curse. A dark curse."

"I don't deal in the dark arts any more, Miss Granger, or have you not seen the papers for the last year?"

"I've seen them," she admitted. "I'm not questioning your dedication to the light. But the fact remains that you know more about dark magic and curses than anyone I know."

"You're a bright witch, do some research and figure it out on your own. If its healing you need, go see Poppy. If its the work of Voldermort, go see Potter." He still spoke the name with hatred though he'd never actually hated the boy.

"I've done all that," she exclaimed. "You are my last hope. I don't think I have much time, Severus." There was a tinge of desperation in her voice that tugged at something long buried within him.

"Then I suggest you make your piece with your maker, Miss Granger." His tone was mocking, though he could almost believe that she meant what she said.

"Severus, please," she whispered. "I consider myself a brave person..." There was a catch in her voice. "But I don't want to die like this."

"Like what?" he snarled. He didn't like the response that the pleading in her tone awoke within him. He didn't like that he felt the need to help, to protect her. That part of his life was done. He shouldn't care if she actually was being killed by a dark curse. She was no longer his concern. They'd all thought him a treacherous bastard- and he was through being the silent hero. Now he really was the bastard they'd all thought him.

Hermione lifted her arm so that her robe fell back to reveal a white bandage running from her wrist up to her shoulder. With a flick of her wand she pulled back the gauze.

Severus stared at her in shock. He'd heard a few of the blackest death eaters mention this curse. He'd even heard that a few of them had inflicted it on unfortunate wizards who fell out of their good graces. But all the ones he'd heard of had died from it shortly after being cursed. It was a terrible way to die, an agonizing, humiliating death. How long had she been cursed? Who had cast it on her?

The word _mudblood_ had been carved onto her arm. It was an old scar, healed over. But the cuts had been duplicated over and over again until the words wound themselves around her arm like a grotesque tattoo. A few closest to the original mark had already had time to heal, meaning it had been at least a few months since she'd been cursed. How had she survived this long? The marks would spread over her body slowly, slicing her skin over and over until every inch of her skin was covered. But usually the cursed person's heart stopped long before the marks spread. She would be forced to face her worst nightmare every night. Her magical energy would be drained to depletion each time she slept. Everyone he'd ever heard of receiving this curse gave out from exhaustion and agony.

"How long?" he asked tightly.

"Since the last battle with Voldermort."

"What?" He hissed the words, unbelieving. It had been almost a year! How could she have survived this long? "That's not possible."

"I put a reduction spell on it," she explained wearily. "It slowed the spread, but I can't stop it wholly."

"You were able to put a reduction spell on this curse?" Severus looked at her with something like awe. He'd never heard of anyone being able to contain this particular curse. Her chin rose proudly and she nodded. A year...even at a reduced speed and intensity, it would still have spread vastly. Suddenly he realized that much more than her arm had been covered by that word. Working at full speed the curse would have covered every inch of her within a month, had she survived that long. Even slowed, after twelve months there was no way it was just her arm...

"Severus-" she faltered, her eyes glazing over slightly. "I believe...that I am going to..." Her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed. Instinctively his arms caught her and he pulled her body against his. She felt fragile, sickly skinny. As he looked down at her, something flickered over her face and then what he assumed must have been a glamor disappeared. Uncovered, there were deep shadows beneath her eyes. Her cheeks were hollowed and her skin pale.

_Leave her here,_ a part of him whispered maliciously. _Let the others deal with her._ Surely her friends could find a way to cure her. And if not, what of it? She was no longer his concern. She'd known the danger when she chose to fight against Voldermort's army.

But no. If for no other reason, the word that had been carved into her arm would make him help her. It made him stomach turn to think of someone etching that word on her skin. It was such a filthy, nasty word. Meant to humiliate and degrade. He knew the damage that one little word could do.

"Fuck," he muttered. Carefully he covered her arm with the bandage again and then pulled her into his arms. She felt so small there. How much weight had she lost? He turned and with gritted teeth brought her over the threshold and into his home. He'd almost made it up the stairs and to his bedroom with her when the screaming started.

****What do you think?*****


	2. Chapter 2

*****_Ok everyobdy, here's chapter 2! We get to see more interaction between Severus and Hermione and theres alot of Severus being an ass. I ask that you keep in mind that his actions speak louder than his words. Severus is a dark character in this story, for many reasons that will come more to light as we go along. And don't worry if Hermione seems a little too compliant right now, she's down, but not out. Stick with me, this is a romance at heart, but they have to wade through each other's problems before they can get to matters of the heart!_

_Also...In case this is the first of my stories you've read, I usually update on Saturday afternoon and Tuesday evening, though I've been known to post a secont chapter on Sunday or Wednesday if my email just bursts with fanfic love for the previous chapter ; ) Hope you enjoy!****_

Chapter 2 - Rev 22 20, Puscifer (the song for this chapter, not some random biblical quote lol)

Hermione's body convulsed in his arms. Her face was twisted in agony, and tears fell from her closed eyes, soaking the front of his robes. Severus took the remaining stairs two at a time and then flung the door to his room open wordlessly. He placed her on the bed – _his _bed – and quickly took off his damp robes. After pushing the long sleeves of his shirt up over his elbows he went to work on her.

With no remorse he put her in a body bind. Her thrashing stopped, but the inhuman shrieks still were ripped from her throat. He flicked his wand back and forth over her quickly, speaking words slowly and hypnotically until he could force the curse to bend to his will. It wouldn't last long, but it would give him time to try and examine her and find out how to help her.

Half an hour later he was exhausted, weak and almost trembling from strain. And he had no idea of how to cure her. Pulling himself from the curse was almost more than he could manage. It had already started depleting his own magic as well as hers. But he wrested himself from it and as soon as the last remnants of his magic left her, Hermione's screams started again.

There was nothing else he could do for her until he'd rested. True darkness had fallen outside. He used the last of his strength to put a silencing spell on the bedroom and then staggered down to his living room. He didn't even have the energy to transfigure the couch into a bed before he collapsed onto it.

In the morning when he woke, he regretted he'd done the silencing spell instead of the transfiguration. Every inch of his body was sore and his head felt murky. As tired as he was, he could have slept peacefully through the screams and been better off this morning from having had a good nights sleep in a bed.

Rolling his shoulders he got up and climbed the stairs. When he opened the door, Hermione was sitting on his bed and looking around her. He noticed that her glamor was in place again and he sneered at her.

"Take off your glamor, girl. It is stupid to waste your magic on something so trivial as how you look."

Hermione blinked up at him, shocked and seemingly dumbfounded. Then, slowly, she nodded and let the glamor fade. The dark circles under her eyes bloomed once more and her face resumed its pinched look.

"I assume that you felt that necessary so as not to worry your little friends. But here there are no friends here to hide it from, so refrain from idiotic squander in the future."

"The future? Does that mean that you'll help me?"

"I thought that would be obvious as I did not leave you on the street last night. Apparently I over estimated your powers of deduction."

"I guess that this isn't going to be a friendly interaction, then." She raised her chin impudently and Severus almost lost his temper.

"No, Miss Granger, there will be nothing _friendly _about this. I will do what I can for you, and then you will go on your way without ever speaking of this to anyone. And if you cannot refrain from being the bossy, annoying, insolent little chit I know you to be, I will toss you out without a second thought."

"You wouldn't," she glowered at him.

"Oh, yes, I would. You have no idea who I am, Hermione Granger. You've come to me seeking my help, invaded my privacy, imposed yourself on my hospitality. I am not a tolerant man. Were it not for..." He stopped and started again. "You are lucky that I did not simply turn you out at once. Do not count on my generosity holding out any more than that. Be grateful that I am willing to do what I can to help you and do not push me." He stared down at her as if she was a speck of mud on his otherwise immaculate shoes.

He expected her to storm out, or demand that he apologize, or scream that he couldn't speak to her that way. Instead, the usually brazen, haughty Miss Granger lowered her head.

"Fine," she whispered.

"What was that?" he sneered.

"I said fine, I will keep out of your way and I will do whatever you ask." She looked up at meet his gaze and there was a sheen of tears held tightly in check.

"Good," he said curtly and then turned on his heel and left.

Once in his study, he fumed silently. What had he expected her to do? Leave? Where else was she to go? If she'd had any other options she'd have exhausted them all before coming to him. She was so run down that he was surprised she'd made it this far. So why was he so angry? Surely he wasn't mad at himself for his treatment of her...surely. She deserved no less from him. He'd given her and everyone else everything he had to give for eighteen hears. He had finally escaped from all that, and suddenly she barged into his life and thrust that mantle on him once more. He did not want it. And he would not take it happily. So why did he still feel nagging guilt?

He spent the morning pouring over books. Dark texts containing even darker knowledge. Things he had thought he'd put behind him forever. But once more he was called upon to use his past for the good of others. By noon he hadn't found much except a small possibility of aid from a complex and dangerous potion.

He took a break and stretched out his aching limbs. When he felt a prick of hunger, he went to his small kitchen and prepared a small meal. Halfway through he remembered he was not alone in the house and grudgingly doubled the portions he was preparing. Before he sat down to eat his own meal he put half the food onto a tray and climbed the stairs. He opened the door without knocking and found Hermione curled on her side on the bed. She wasn't sleeping, he knew, because she wasn't screaming. He slammed the tray down on the small bedside table. Her eyes flew open in shock and she sat bolt upright.

"Do not think, Miss Granger, that I plan to serve you your meals. The kitchen is downstairs. I suggest you make use of it unless you intend to starve." He turned and was almost out the door before she spoke.

"I'm not hungry." Her voice was small and tight. Severus whirled on her and narrowed his eyes to slits.

"Be that as it may," he whispered, "You _will _eat. You have neglected yourself to a disgusting degree, and I will not put my time and energy into helping someone that might well die of hunger while I work. If you cannot be bothered to take care of yourself, then neither can I."

He stared at her, waiting. Hermione looked like she might fight him, and then her shoulders slumped. She reached out and took the sandwich from the tray. With grueling effort she chewed and swallowed a large bite. With Severus still watching she washed it down with a gulp of pumpkin juice. Then she met his eyes once more. He gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"I expect you to finish that, Miss Granger. All of it." Satisfied that she would do what he wanted, he left the room.

As he ate his own lunch he wondered if she would emerge from his room at all during the day. She probably did not have much energy, and taking his tongue lashings would probably have tired her even farther. Should he have been gentler with her?

No.

Minerva and Potter and all the others she'd gone to before would have been easy on her. They would have let her skip meals when she didn't feel like eating. They would have let her make the decisions, taken her time and been gentle never to push her. And look where that had gotten her. She was so malnourished that it was a miracle that starvation hadn't taken her before the curse could. No, she'd come to him, and she would have to put up with his abrupt, abrasive methods.

He'd been back in his study for several hours before he heard her descend the stairs. Her steps were cautious and her tread so light he almost didn't hear her. A few minutes later he could hear her in his kitchen. Deciding it was about time to stop for the day, Severus rose from his desk and went to see what damage she was inflicting on his kitchen.

By the time he reached the swinging door to the kitchen she was coming through it already with two cups in her hands. Startled, she stepped back and lost her balance. The cups flew from her hands as she started to fall. Muttering an oath, Severus caught her around the middle and steadied her. Before she could blink he'd flicked his wand at the cups which had frozen in mid air, refilled with their so recently divested contents, and then moved to hover in front of them. Hermione's round eyes looked from the cups and then to him.

Realizing he was still holding her, he abruptly let her go. She stumbled only slightly and then pulled the cups from the air. With an unsure smile she offered him one.

"What's this?" he asked suspiciously, staring down at the liquid as if it might bite him.

"Tea." She sipped her own, possibly to try and show him it wasn't poisoned. He grimaced and took a drink. To his surprise, it was black oregot tea, his favorite. And it was prepared perfectly. He couldn't help the appreciative rumble that escaped his throat. When he looked up, there as still that unsure smile on her face, but it had widened slightly.

"Its good," he admitted with a glare in her direction.

"Thank you." She turned and perched on one of the chairs in the living room. Severus followed her and sank down into his favorite chair. They looked at each other over the tops of their cups. Neither spoke for a long time. Then, a smell came curling through the living room from the kitchen. Hermione's eyes widened and she set her cup down so fast that it almost spilled. "The tea!" She surged to her feet but before she could take a single step she wavered. Her eyes took on a hazy glean as if she was having trouble seeing straight.

Severus rose quickly as she put out her hands to steady herself. He gave her his arm with a growl of malcontent and let her get her bearings. Once she was steady she took off to the kitchen. Severus followed, wondering what the blazes she was on about.

In the kitchen there was a practically antique kettle settled on the muggle stove that hadn't been used since his mother had died almost thirty years before. Black steam was pouring from its nozzle. Hermione rushed over to it and picked it up. With a strangled cry she dropped it back down and stared in horror at her burned hand.

"What the devil are you using the kettle for?" Severus lifted the red hot metal with a wave of his wand and deposited it in the sink. Hermione gaped at him.

"The tea..."

"You're a witch, you stupid girl! What could posess you to use a kettle instead of your wand!?" He was roaring his words at her, surprised to find himself more angry that she'd hurt herself than the mess she'd made in the kitchen. And of course it made him even angrier that he felt that way. She didn't mean anything to him, damn it! Why should he care?

"I can't!" She sobbed the words and ran from the kitchen. Severus followed behind her, demanding answers.

"What do you mean, you can't? Do you mean to tell me that the _brightest witch of our age,_" he sneered the words, "is incapable of learning a heating spell?"

"I don't have...the energy." She admitted this softly, humiliated by it. Severus only stared at her in shock. She didn't have the energy for a simple heating spell?

"You used your glamor yesterday. If you had energy for that then surely you had energy for this."

"I slept most of the afternoon yesterday, before setting out to come here. If you can call it sleep."

"If you can't preform the most basic spells without sleeping the majority of the day then obviously you should sleep more. What the fuck were you doing all day?"

"I didn't want to sleep."

"Why the fuck not?" Severus tried to reign in his temper. Why was he letting someting so stupid get to him?

"Because I didn't want to disrupt you while you were researching. There's nothing I can do to keep myself from screaming when I sleep, trust me, I've tried. And maybe if you aren't constantly distracted by my screams you can cure me faster and I can get out of your life. Its obviously what you want."

Again, Severus could only stare at her. She'd allowed herself to become so weak that she couldn't preform basic spells...so that he could concentrate? So that he could be rid of her faster? He swallowed so that there would be no waver in his voice when he spoke. He wasn't sure what emotion it was that he felt but he didn't want to convey it to her either way.

"There is a silencing spell on my bedroom. Scream yourself hoarse if it will keep you from burning down my home." He growled a few words and her hand went from angry red back to pale ivory. Then he turned and went back to his chair. His tea was cold when he picked it back up and somewhat disgustedly he reheated his own and Hermione's as well. She simply looked at him for a few moments. Slowly she walked back over to her chair and sat down. They sipped their tea in silence until Severus decided it was time for dinner. "Since you cannot seem to accomplish the slightest task in your current state, I will provide dinner for you tonight. Do _not_ expect this treatment every night."

After a few moments in the kitchen, he had dinner prepared and on the table. Hermione walked stiffly into his dining room and sat down where her plate had been set. In a move so subtle he might have missed it if he hadn't been watching her so carefully, she delicately sniffed the food.

"Unlike you, I have full control of my talents. I assure you the food is edible." He couldn't keep the bite out of his voice even though she looked to be on the brink of breaking down. She slowly lifted her fork to her mouth and tasted it. Apparently she found it tolerable because she took another bite, and another. They ate in silence, a habit quickly forming between them because Severus refused to make idle banter and Hermione did not seem to have the energy to both eat and hold up a conversation.

When he'd finished, Severus rose to return his plate to the kitchen. Hermione pushed back her chair to rise as well. As he walked by, Severus put a heavy hand on her shoulder and returned her to the chair.

"Your food is not finished, Miss Granger. You will remain there until you eat all of it."

"I am not a child!" she retorted angrily. Severus only raised a brow at her.

"As you have proven yourself incapable of caring for your most basic needs, I will do it for you if I must. While you are in my home you will abide by my rules." His tone was iron. She glared at him.

"And if I don't eat any more?"

"Then I can either throw you out, or _make_ you eat it."

"You can't make me do anything," she gasped. Severus' jaw tightened. He set down his plate and leaned over her, planting both hands on either side of her so she couldn't evade him.

"In your current state, Miss Granger, I could _make_ you do anything I wanted." His voice was a dark, silky caress against her skin and he felt her shiver in spite of herself. Her shoulders stiffened, outrage wracking her, and then they slumped. He was right, and she knew it. She was completely at his mercy. The idea was incredibly heady for Severus. He shook his head to clear it from the thought and leaned back up. "Do not push me," he hissed. Then he left the room.

When he walked back by, Hermione was obediently taking small bites of her food. Good. So what if he'd reminded her of how helpless she'd become? So what if he'd humiliated her and bullied her? Life wasn't fair, of that he could certainly attest. She'd been coddled plenty by others and it had done her no good. Quite the opposite in fact.

He told himself that again and again as he went to his study to select the most promising book in which he might find a way to cure her.

After she'd finally left the table, Hermione did not return to the living room where Severus was reading. She went directly upstairs to his bedroom. It made him shift uncomfortably when he thought of her in his bed. Part of him was unsettled by the idea that in only a few moments time she would be shrieking in agony. Memories converged on him faster than he could block them out. _The belt whistling down, the pain burning through him, the feel of strong, cold fingers gripping him..._

He shut them out quickly. No. It wasn't like that. Instead he focused on the other reason for his prickle of unease at the thought of Miss Granger in his bed. He'd never shared it with a woman before, even if he wasn't in it. And thinking of her in his bed he couldn't help thinking of her there for other reasons. Thinking of her naked and wanting. Beckoning him. It was a ridiculous fantasy but he couldn't help but entertain it. His vivid imagination could easily strip her and pleasure her. He knew exactly how he would touch her, taste her, make her scream.

His little fantasy abruptly ended. By now she probably was screaming in his bed. But not in pleasure. And a woman like Hermione would never warm his bed that way, for more reasons than one. He knew that better than anyone. Angrily he forced himself to focus on the book in his hands.

_*****What did you think? Let me know, I love hearing from you all! More soon! : ) *****_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hello all! Sorry I'm a bit later than usual getting this out...hope the extra long chapter makes up for it. A bit more of Severus' past is revealed in his dreams and things are starting to build between him and Hermione! Hope you like it, and don't forget to review and let me know what you think!**_

Chapter 3 - the Fragile, Nine Inch Nails

Several hours later, he was no closer to finding a cure. He slammed the book down in frustration. There had to be a way! He decided to take a hands on approach again. Slowly he climbed the stairs and went into his bedroom. Hermione had his blanket drawn up to her chin as if that would keep the monsters away. Severus knew better. Her voice had indeed gone hoarse from her screams, her legs thrashing beneath the covers. As if she'd heard him come in, her screams got louder. She kicked out and the blanket tangled around her legs. Severus stared.

The insolent chit was wearing one of his t shirts as a night gown. But that didn't distract him for more than a few moments. Because his eyes were inextricably drawn to something else, something terrible. The shirt had ridden up around her ribs, revealing long legs and black panties. And what should have been flawless ivory skin. Instead, the marks had worked their way down her chest, across her stomach and hips and curled around her left thigh. The marks lowest on her leg and farthest right over her stomach were fresh, carved into her delicate skin recently. Severus could see the blood glistening on her skin. Revulsion roiled up through him. It was abominable. As he watched, an M slowly carved itself into her inner thigh. She screamed in pain and tears tracked down her face.

Severus didn't think, he just threw himself into the work. In moments he was feeling out the strands that bound the curse. As his own magic twined with it, Hermione's screams died away. She gasped, regained her breath as tears continued to fall from her closed eyes. For hours he worked, ignoring the steady draining of his own magic. But no matter what he did, he couldn't pull the curse from her. Finally, he was forced to pull himself away from her. When he did, her screams once more filled the room. There was nothing he could do to stop it. Depleted beyond measure, he collapsed beside the bed. He fell into a deep sleep despite the screams.

And nightmares found him.

_Severus was back in his bed, in his room. He was no longer a grown man, but a boy of seven or eight. He could hear his parents yelling at each other. They cursed and called each other terrible names. Something crashed and Severus cowered under his blankets. He imagined that the tattered blanket was a shield that would protect him from all the bad things. It would keep everything out. He heard a door slam and knew his mother had left the house. The trembling started and he could do nothing to stop it. The stairs creaked as heavy steps landed on them. In another moment, his door opened with a soft click. Muffled footsteps reached his ears from beneath the covers. The bed sagged as a weight sank beside him. The covers were drawn away, cold hands gripping his slim shoulders-_

Severus awoke with a start, a cry dying on his lips. Hermione was knelt beside him looking at him with concern in her eyes.

"Severus?"

"What?" His sharp tone startled her and she moved back to the bed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you up but you were moaning and I thought-"

"Your own screaming has muddled your ears, Miss Granger. I do not moan in my sleep." He didn't. Of course he didn't. But a flash of a nearly forgotten memory came to him. Lily staring at him with that same concern in her eyes while they were on the train to Hogwarts first year. He'd fallen asleep and... He jerked himself from the memory and glared up at Hermione. She pursed her lips but did not reply to his denial.

"What are you doing in here?" she finally asked.

"This is _my_ bedroom, Miss Granger. What I do in here is my own business." When she only looked at him, exasperated, he finally shrugged slightly. "I worked on your curse till late in the night. I was exhausted and must have fallen asleep here." He stared at her, daring her to chastise him for it. Instead, she looked horrified.

"You...oh Severus you can't do that! What if the curse gets bound to you as well?"

"I will trust you not to insult me again, Miss Granger. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, unlike _some_ people. Speaking of which, you certainly look better today." He drawled the words to change the subject.

"I feel better," she smiled. "Like I finally got a few hours of sleep last night. Real sleep, not the..." she trailed off and drew the blanket tighter around herself.

"Should I take that to mean that you will be capable of making yourself breakfast this morning without damaging my kitchen?"

"Of course. And as a thank you for yesterday, I will even make breakfast for you, as well." She stood, the blanket still wrapped around her. Severus started to protest and then stopped himself. Why not let her make him a meal? He'd exhausted himself working to help her, it was the least she could do. He only nodded and left the room for her to dress.

When she brought him a hot croissant and strong tea an hour later, he was in his study preparing ingredients for a potion.

"Do you think you've found a cure?" she asked excitedly.

"No. This won't cure you. It may not work at all, but if it does, I can at least make the curse non lethal." His tone was brusque, as if he wasn't talking about her life. She nodded and placed her hand lightly on his arm.

"Thank you." Her words were as soft as her touch. As warm. Severus shook her off and glared at her.

"I said it isn't a cure," he growled.

"I think the possibility of not dying is at least worth a thank you." She flashed him another small smile and then left the study. Severus had a flash of fantasy, Hermione on her knees in front of him, smiling up at him and licking her lips. He shook his head to clear it and rubbed his eyes. He was a grown fucking man. He could control his libido for gods' sake! Why was she drawing this reaction from him? Was it just proximity? She certainly wasn't the first woman he'd spent long days with. He had several fellow teachers that were female in his years at Hogwarts but he'd never fantasized about them. And there had been plenty of women that followed Voldermort, hungering for power and lusting after men who had it. There were plenty that had thrown themselves at him. He'd never fantasized about any of them this way. And even Lily...he'd never had such explicit thoughts about her, either.

Frustrated beyond belief, he bent his mind to the task at hand once more. It would be a hard enough potion to complete correctly. He didn't need any distractions.

He spent most of the day working on the potion. At noon Hermione brought him a sandwich and juice. When the sun started to set she stepped hesitantly into his study. Severus noticed her and put down the vial he was working with.

"Yes?" he drawled.

"I was thinking about dinner..."

"Think all you like, Miss Granger. I fail to see what that has to do with me, or why you are in my study." He raised a brow at her and she glared at him.

"I mean, I made dinner, and I would like it if you joined me." She squared her shoulders and tried to smile brightly. Her eyes were still not quite as weary as they had been a few days ago, so she must have gotten at least a little sleep this afternoon. Severus wondered if there were new letters carved into her skin.

"I will be out shortly." His reply was curt, a dismissal. She only nodded and left. Severus took his time finishing with the ingredients he was slowly adding. It would be a few more days and then the potion would have to simmer for another week, but then if he'd done his job right, Hermione would at least not be in immediate mortal danger any longer.

Half an hour later, Severus entered the dining room to see a large meal set on the table. He seated himself wordlessly and started to eat. To his surprise, it was actually quite good. Of course he wouldn't tell Granger that. She would probably never let him forget it if he did.

They ate in silence, broken only by the soft sounds of silverware on plates. When they were done, Hermione took his plate wordlessly and returned to the kitchen. Then she started to go up the stairs and stopped when she realized Severus was following her. She turned, nearly causing him to bump into her on the stairs. They stood, looking at each other for a moment before she finally spoke.

"Severus...what are you doing?"

"I had intended to go up to my room, Miss Granger, that is if it's ok with you," he sneered mockingly. She rubbed her forehead tiredly.

"Stop it."

"Excuse me?" He whispered the words in a soft hiss.

"Just stop it! I know this is hard for you. And I appreciate what you are doing for me. You are literally saving my life. But just stop it! You don't have to be snide and cruel all the time."

"This is my home, Miss Granger. Do I need remind you of that? I can act however I damn well please in my own home. If you don't like it you are more than welcome to leave."

"I know this is your house! But can't you just be civil to me? Can't you see this is hard enough on me already? Can you even imagine being forced to live with practically no magic at all? To be totally at someone else's mercy? Particularly someone who seems to hate your very existence?"

"Oh, I have been totally at someone elses mercy before. And I have had to make due with no magic."

"Then why can't you show just a little empathy and be decent to me? That's all I ask. I'm not expecting courtesy, I'm not expecting friendship. Just common decency. Treat me like a human being."

"We can't always get what we want. All we can do is make due with what we are given. And be grateful for it." His voice was tight. Even standing two steps below her, he still stood a head taller than her. She looked up at him with those big eyes of hers shining. Slowly she wilted under his stare. She sank down on the step and put her head in her hands. A soft sob shook her body. Severus simply stared. What was he supposed to do? A curious feeling tore at his chest and he tried to push it away, but with every tear that fell down her face it got worse. Finally he couldn't take it any more. "Stop this nonsense at once!"

Hermione raised her head in shock. A tear hung to her lashes and slowly dropped down her cheek. Severus clenched his hands into fists to keep himself from brushing the tear away.

"If you must know, I feel the need to change my clothes since I have been working in these all day. As you are occupying my bedroom, I thought it would be best to get clean clothes while you are awake and still fully clothed. And also tonight I thought I would try working on your curse as you are falling asleep and perhaps ease some strain for both of us." He pulled her roughly to her feet and pushed her up the stairs. "Does that constitute as common decency?" he asked, exasperated.

At the top of the stairs Hermione turned and gave him a tremulous smile, despite her tear spiked lashes. She nodded slowly and then went into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed while Severus pulled out a clean t shirt and slacks for himself. She glanced nervously at the t shirt lying at the end of the bed, the one she'd used as a nightshirt. Severus chose not to say anything about it. She seemed fragile that night. He could always point it out another night.

He walked out of the room to allow her privacy to change and while he waited he pulled the clean t shirt over his head. When it had been what he assumed to be sufficient time, he went back into the room. She was sitting up in the bed with the blanket pulled up again. Severus pulled up the chair beside the bed and gestured for her to lay back. Slowly she did.

They looked at each other for a few moments. Finally, Severus broke the silence.

"Are you planning on going to sleep or is it your intention to stare at me for the entire night?"

"I was just...sorry. I'm not used to falling asleep with someone watching me." With a sigh she forced her eyes closed and let the exhaustion take her. As soon as the first visages of sleep took hold, Severus waded into her magic. By entering the curse before it fully took hold of her, he was able to stay in longer and suffer less of the draining effects. He worked silently for nearly four hours. Then he pulled out, exhausted but satisfied.

He wearily eyed the door and considered the strength it would take to get himself down to the couch. The idea was _not_ tempting. Instead he pointed his wand at the chair he was in. A moment later it had transfigured itself into a cot and he fell back. To his surprise, Hermione's screams didn't start right away like they had before. A low whimper escaped her throat, low murmurs- pleas- and the after a few minutes her screams split the air. As he lay on his side facing her, Severus pulled down the blanket covering her. His fingers brushed lightly on the OD forming on her inner thigh. Without meaning to, he sent out healing waves in the touch. The marks faded for a moment, and then reappeared. Still, his fingertips trailed her inner thigh, almost caressing the bloody furrows.

Why couldn't he force himself not to care? Of course he'd never liked to see anyone tortured. He wasn't particularly sadistic, bedroom activity aside. And he'd never been able to stomach seeing a child hurt. But after all the time he'd been forced to see such things, even participate in them, for the good of Dumbledore's endgame...why couldn't he be calloused to them?

As he questioned himself, his exhaustion finally won out. He fell asleep with his hand high on Hermione's thigh, wondering why he was cursed with caring.

_He'd really done it this time. Why had he been standing next to the bottle? He was usually so careful about never getting near his bottles. When you got close to them, there was the chance you could bump into them. And now he'd broken one. The cold hand wrapped around his thin arm and shook him violently. A heavy fist landed against his jaw, pain exploding through his head. Dazed, he didn't realize at first that he was being dragged up the stairs. He used what little energy he had left to fight once he realized where he was being taken. Of course he knew it would do him no good. He could never win. He could never keep it from happening. But maybe, if he fought hard enough, he could hate himself a little less when he grew up. He could remind himself that he'd fought. He kicked out as his pants were ripped off and felt his foot connect with something solid. Oh god oh god, he hadn't meant to do that! He tried to speak, to apologize, to take it back, but he couldn't. There was a roar of rage, and then pain, blinding pain. Before he could try to move away or turn over, the fire came. He screamed, tried to twist away but he was held fast. Burning, blistering agony tore through him. He heard laughter through his screams. Then, for a moment, relief. The fire was gone. But he was being turned over, pressed down to the bed, his breath smothered as he heard excited, anticipating moans behind him. Terror gripped him, then pain-_

Severus sat bolt upright on the cot. He looked over at the bed. The bed. He almost threw up but held himself in check with his iron will. He forced himself to stare at the bed. At the demons from his past that he could never quiet purge from his mind. There was a slight movement and he realized that there was someone in the bed. Hermione.

The night before came rushing back to him. He pulled his hands into his lap and wondered if he'd been touching her when she woke up. There was still sleep lingering in her eyes so he hoped that even if he had been, he'd moved before she'd fully realized it. She blinked at him and yawned.

"Good morning," she said softly. Severus muttered a return greeting and stiffly got up from the cot. He transfigured it back to a chair and left the room without another word.

In a few moments Hermione was dressed and downstairs making breakfast for them. Severus debated on taking care of his ...morning predicament... and decided in the end that it wasn't worth the wasted time fantasizing about Hermione and the energy it would squander.

After a silent breakfast, he went directly to his study and started working on her potion again. The sooner he had the potion finished, the sooner she could leave. And then, if a fantasy of her ran across his mind he could indulge it in his head. With her right under foot it was simply too dangerous. He might let his fantasies slip, or he might get desperate enough to act on them. And he was under no illusions that Hermione would accept any advances from him. He was twenty years older than she was. And he knew what he looked like. Even from the neck up he wasn't exactly a prize. Let alone what was under his clothing...


	4. Chapter 4

_**Aaaaalrighty folks, here's the next chapter! We are building up to some exciting stuff, and I can't wait to share it with you! I hope you are loving this story as much as I am : ) Happy reading!**_

Chapter 4 - Something I can Never Have, Nine Inch Nails

The next three days passed in the same way. They developed a routine. Hermione continued to cook for him and prepare his tea. He would work on her potion during the day and after dinner they would go up to his bedroom together. He would work on her curse while she fell asleep and then he would turn the chair into a cot and sleep next to the bed.

After that first day, Severus knew that he wouldn't make any headway with the curse itself by working at it from within. Was he soft enough that he exhausted and endangered himself just to allow her a few hours of peaceful sleep? Of course not. Severus Snape would never do something so stupid, so pointless... How long would he be able to convince himself of that?

Fortunately the potion was nearly complete. It only needed a few more days to stew and then she could drink it. When he told her this, Severus could practically feel her excitement. Already she was benefiting from his callous care. Her eyes were brighter, her cheeks fuller. She still carried that peekid look of the anemic, but no longer collapsed from something so simply as standing up abruptly. Her magic was working better as well.

Of course, that meant that he had to put up with more of her smart mouth as well, now that she wasn't quite at death's door.

Though much to his surprise, Severus didn't seem to mind her rapier wit. The muggles had it right when they said that 'iron sharpens iron, and so one man sharpens the countenance of another.' Her biting retorts kept him on his toes around her. She challenged his mind. It was not something he was used to, but it was something he found that he enjoyed.

When the potion was finally ready a week later, she took it without question. He wanted to chastise her for blindly drinking it, but found that he couldn't. She ...trusted him. It was a novel thing for Severus. The only person who'd ever really trusted him had been Dumbledore. And even that had sometimes been tenuous. Hermione had put her life in his hands. He tried to remind himself that she'd had no other choice, but couldn't begrudge her for that.

When she finished drinking it, she looked up expectantly.

"Did you think there would be fireworks? Bells and whistles? Potions are an-"

"Exact art and subtle science?" She finished his sentence with a small smile on her face. Damn it, that had been exactly what he'd intended to say. "You told me that the first day of my first class with you." Christ, did she have to remind him that he'd started teaching her when she was eleven fucking years old? It was as much a douse to his sexual cravings as a bucket of ice water.

Even still, his cock didn't seem to remember her as a child. It saw her as the woman she was now, her lips slightly parted, her cheeks flushed with excitement, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

"Yes, Miss Granger. Subtle. It may take some time before we know if the desired effects have been attained."

"What exactly will this do?"

"The potion will not break the curse, as I have told you. You will still experience the nightmares, but they will no longer drain your magic or your essence. That- that word will still be marked onto your skin while you sleep, but it will no longer be immune to magical healing."

"The marks that are there already...can they be removed?"

"I plan to find that out tonight."

Their dinner that night wasn't eaten in silence. Hermione seemed to have found her voice once more now that hope was in sight. Severus didn't bother to answer half of what she said and only gave grudging one word replies when it was necessary. Even still, he didn't _not _enjoy the conversation.

It was still early when they finished, but they went up to the bedroom none the less. Severus stopped in the doorway, waiting for her to undress. He couldn't help the surge of sexual excitement that spiked through his bloodstream. When she pulled off her shirt, though, it died suddenly. He'd slowed the spread even more in the time that she'd been with him, but even still the marks had curled all the way around her chest and ribs. The ugly word marred her skin in bloody furrows. It ate at him. But soon he would hopefully be ridding her body of the insidious scars.

She paused when she saw him staring at her. Her hands faltered on the waistband of her jeans. Color crept up her neck slowly. Rolling his eyes, Severus wordlessly turned to the wall. In a flash she finished removing her clothing and went to the bed. When he turned back the blanket was once more drawn up to her chin. They both knew that he would have to remove it soon, but he would wait until he absolutely had to- to make it easier on her as well as him.

He pulled his wand out and seated himself next to her on the bed. In a low murmur that blended into a chant he started working on the oldest marks. When they started to lighten he moved further up her arm and across her chest. When he had pulled the blanket down as far as he could while maintaining her modesty, he paused to glance up at her. She had her eyes squeezed shut but gave him a small nod. He quickly pulled the blanket down to her waist and kept working.

The sight of her breasts carved that way made his chest tight. The delicate skin slowly knit itself together again. He moved down her stomach and again paused at her waist. At another almost imperceptible nod from her, he removed the blanket all together. Her legs were locked tight together and Severus put one long fingered hand on her upper thigh. With a slight tug he separated her legs and worked on the marks there. These were the most recent and the easiest to work with because of that. He finished quickly. When he was done he pulled the blanket back up over her and she opened her eyes.

"Are we done?" There was relief mixed with regret in her voice. The trauma was done, but the marks had faded without disappearing all together.

"For tonight," Severus said tiredly. "We will do this in three stages. Tomorrow night and the night after we will do this again. By the third night almost all of these will be gone for good. I cannot promise though..." He trailed off as his fingers brushed over the most prominent scar on her forearm. "I cannot guarantee that this one will come off. After a year, scars become almost impossible to remove, even with magic."

"But the others?"

"All should be gone the day after tomorrow." At his words she sighed in relief. There was an odd feeling that gripped him then. Was it pride? That he'd been the one to help her? Relief that he would be able to almost completely remove that malicious word from her skin? Was it...happiness? She was certainly joyous. Was it rubbing off on him?

Hermione pulled his t shirt on over her head and then threw her arms around him. He stiffened, leaning away from her out of shock but she wouldn't let him pull back. She buried her face against his shoulder and clung to him.

"Thank you," she whispered. Severus still couldn't react. No one- _no one-_ had ever hugged him like this. Her body was pressed tightly to his and he could feel her every curve. Desire washed over him like a tital wave, engulfing him. He grit his teeth to try and stem the physical reaction to her touch. Eventually he lifted his hand slowly and patted her on the back a few times. Was this what it was like to have someone show gratitude for what you'd done for them? He'd spent so much of his life toiling in secret, where at best the people he was protecting ignored him, and at worst they despised him. Was this what it was like to have someone know what you'd done for them and appreciate it?

Finally he grabbed her shoulders gently but firmly and pulled her off of him. She sniffed once and beamed up at him. "Thank you," she repeated. Not knowing what to say, he only nodded at her tightly.

"Get some sleep, Miss Granger. You need it." While she turned and climbed into the bed he flicked his wand at his clothes and they changed into a clean t shirt and a soft pair of sleeping pants. When he finished transfiguring the chair into a cot he turned and Hermione was staring at him. Her eyes roved over his body curiously. He felt naked. Over and over he repeated to himself that she could not see his skin. She would see soft cotton stretched over his broad shoulders, the taper of his hips where the waistband of his pants sat, and his biceps where they showed from beneath the sleeves of the shirt. She couldn't see the bare skin of his back. She couldn't discern the raised whorls and jagged lines of scars beneath the fabric. "I plan to observe you sleeping tonight to make sure the potion is working correctly, and as I will hopefully not be collapsing in exhaustion when I am done, I thought more comfortable clothes were in order. You have seen a man in sleeping clothes, I trust, Miss Granger."

At his words she jerked her eyes up and had the grace to blush.

"I...yes, of course. I just never thought that one day I would see my potions professor in his pajamas." She gave a soft little giggle that made the corners of her eyes crinkle with humor.

"Nor did I, Miss Granger, but alas, this is where life has led us. I suggest you stop oogling me and go to sleep." His words were sharp but she didn't seem to mind. She slowly drew the covers up but didn't allow her eyes to close yet. Severus laid his own head down and they looked at each other for a long while in silence.

"How did you do it?" she finally whispered. Severus knew what she meant but pretended to misunderstand.

"I am a potions master. If you wanted to know-"

"I mean protecting us, all those years. Having to lie to everyone, be hated by everyone, in order to keep us safe."

"I was hated long before I chose to serve Dumbledore," he sneered. Hermione only nodded.

"You were. It wasn't right, the way they treated you."

"I do not need you to tell me that, Miss Granger. I am perfectly aware of that on my own."

"You should have been in Gryffendor," she said softly. Severus felt his upper lip curl.

"Don't insult me," he snarled.

"I mean it. You're the bravest man I know, Severus Snape."

"You know nothing about me. Go to sleep."

"Sure, Severus." She gave him a slight smile and finally let her eyes close. Severus rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He was confused and he hated being confused. He was lost and he hated being lost. It made him angry this woman could upset the balance of his life in such a short time. He wanted to hate her for saying he should have been a Gryffendor. But Dumbledore,a man he respected beyond measure, had said as much once as well. He'd always considered himself too smart to be brave. People with empty heads needed courage. Those that used their brains didn't require bravery. It was how he'd lived his life. Hermione had no idea what she was talking about. Right?

No.

He wasn't the man she'd made him out to be in her mind. Because of the things he'd done in memory of Lily, because of his decision to aid her with the curse, she'd puffed him up to be some romantic hero in her head. In reality he was nothing of the sort. He was a bastard and he knew he was a bastard. He was selfish and demanding and hot tempered. And when she was around, lustful. Gods she brought out the lust in him. He'd imagined her in his bed a hundred different ways. Or bent over his couch. On his dining room table. He imagined her completely at his mercy, doing everything he told her to do. Pleasing him in every way he commanded.

In only a few more days, though, she would be gone. Then he would be able to get her out of his head. He could go back to the way he'd always been. Alone. In control.

Hermione let out a low moan and rolled in her sleep. Severus turned to face her and felt along her with his wand. Her magic wasn't draining. It was just a nightmare. A scream split the air. Blood trickled down her arm as a U sliced itself into her skin. The potion wouldn't stop the carving, but now he could heal the marks. He ran the tip of his finger over it and slowly it closed itself. He gently traced each new mark as it formed and they vanished beneath his finger tips.

"Please, please no," she moaned. Severus looked up at her face. It was the first time she'd spoken in her sleep. What was she dreaming of? The curse forced the person it was cast upon to relive their worst memories. It took them back to where they experienced the most pain, the most fear. Any physical injuries would repeat themselves over and over on their bodies. Severus knew that Hermione had spent time at Malfoy Mannor. That it was there the word Mudblood had been carved onto her skin. How much pain had she gone through in her time there? He didn't want to know.

But he couldn't help himself from reaching out with his mind to connect with hers.

_It was dark. The room buzzed with hushed conversations. Bellatrix had Hermione pinned to the floor and was running a small silver knife along her skin with taunting softness. She was screaming at her about a sword, about how they had gotten into her vault. Severus could feel Hermione's mind whirling, trying to figure out what to say, how to get her to stop- Bellatrix pointed her wand down at Hermione and suddenly the cruciatus curse took hold of her, agony burning up through her body. She shrieked and screamed but could do nothing to stop it. Bellatrix released her from the curse and demanded to know about the sword again. Hermione lied baldly, telling her it was a fake. Bellatrix called for a goblin to be brought up to examine the sword. Then as they waited she started to carve on Hermione's arm. She couldn't see what Bellatrix was putting there, but she knew. She knew she was being branded. Then the goblin was there, talking about the sword. The others moved around her, ignoring her as she curled up and cried. But she got no relief. Only a moment later, Bellatrix was kicking her towards the werewolf. Giving Hermione to him. To 'play with.' She wanted to scream again but knew it would do her no good. By some miracle Bellatrix had believed her lie about the sword, with the goblin's help. Maybe she had saved Harry and Ron. Maybe that was all she could ask for. Survival was too much of a dream. She could only pray that the werewolf was more hungry for blood than for flesh..._ Severus jerked himself back from Hermione. The pain, the fear he could handle. It was the despair that tore through him. She'd had no hope.

She'd been prepared to die for her friends, and it wouldn't have been an easy death. A thought struck him. A terrible thought. Had she been bitten before they had escaped? Surely he would have heard of it... But he'd closed himself off from the world. She could be infected even as she lay in his bed. Would he still lust after her if she was a werewolf, something he hated above all others? Probably. He could hate her and want to fuck her at the same time. But he never would, if she was infected.

What the hell was he thinking? He would never fuck her even if she wasn't infected! She was an ex student, she was insufferable, she was the Potter boy's best friend- last Severus knew she'd been dating that idiot Weasley. And a woman like Hermione Granger would never lower herself enough to sleep with someone like him. Romantic hero or no. He angrily rolled away from her so he wouldn't have to look at her. Wouldn't have to see her sleeping, dreaming, wearing his shirt and nothing else. But even when he wasn't looking at her, he could see her every time he closed his eyes.

After a long time, Severus finally fell asleep to the sound of her screams. They didn't keep him awake, his thoughts did that. After all, it wasn't the first time that a chorus of agonized screams had been his lullaby.

_**Well now, we can all guess whats coming next, right? Wrong! Theres a twist coming up...an exciting, sexy, dramatic twist! Have I piqued your interest? Let me know; don't forget, I update on Wednesdays too if I get enough feedback...otherwise you'll get to see the new drama on Saturday!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**_You guys are AMAZING! I love all the reviews and thank you thank you thank you for all the follows and favorites. I'm so glad that you're enjoying the story and I'm so happy that I get to share it with you all! As promised, here is the next part...including the new twist in the plot. Its a long chapter, but I just couldn't break it up at all. There's alot that happens here and I hope you all enjoy the ride as much as I have!_**

Chapter 5 - The druid's prayer, Michelle McLaughlin

The next morning Severus was awake before Hermione was. He made a point to be downstairs before she got up. Wondering why he bothered, he prepared a morning cup of tea for her as well when he prepared his own. He did not wait to see what she thought of his gesture. When she entered the kitchen he left for his study and stayed there all day. Their options had almost run out for curing the curse. There were only a few more places he could easily search for answers. Anything beyond that would involve extensive research. Which meant extensive amounts of time she would stay in his home. Severus couldn't have that. He would make sure she was healed and the marks had been removed from her body. Then he would send her on her way. He'd done his job. More than.

That evening he stayed in his study for dinner and did not go up to his bedroom until late. She was awake, waiting for him. He could tell that underneath the blanket she was naked again. His cock hardened painfully and he grit his teeth to ignore it.

He repeated the same process as the night before, going slowly over her body with his wand till the marks faded. They were almost gone. Only faint lines remained. When he finished, he floundered for a moment, unsure what to do. He'd remained in the room the night before to make sure the potion was working. Now he knew it was. There wasn't any reason for him to stay. He finally turned to the door, but Hermione stopped him.

"Severus? Would...would you stay?" She was hesitant and unsure. Severus turned to her, his mouth slightly agape.

"Why?" He was so surprised that his voice lacked all of its usual malice.

"I guess...I've gotten used to having you here. I'm still afraid that the curse will-"

"Are you doubting my potion making skills?" Now the bite was back in his tone.

"No!" She quickly explained, "Its just that I think I will sleep better with you here, just in case. And I need all the sleep I can get." There was a small smile playing on her lips. He should say no. He should turn and leave without another word. Instead, he found himself transfiguring the chair into a cot again. They both laid down and their eyes met in the semidarkness.

"I'm surprised Weasley isn't hounding my door for news of your condition," Severus drawled lightly after a few moments of silence.

"Ron?" Hermione nibbled on her bottom lip. "No, I don't suppose he should be. I mean, I know he still cares, him and Harry too, but I think we are still keeping a cautious distance."

"The bloom of awkward, adolescent romance died?" He arched a sardonic brow.

"You could say that." She chuckled softly. "We had a falling out several months back. I don't think there is anything that will come between us as friends, but as a couple..." She trailed off and shook her head slightly. "Romance complicates everything."

Severus agreed whole heartedly but didn't say so. They fell silent again until her eyelids started to droop. In a few moments she had fallen soundly asleep. When the marks came again, Severus stayed up late into the night erasing them. His fingers knew the lines of her body now and skated across her skin with intimate familiarity. After one particularly wretched scream, Hermione reached out and her hands found his shoulders. She pulled herself closer to him and practically wrapped her body around his like a vine.

He froze, unsure what to do. Internally, there was a fierce debate raging. It felt...good, to have her there like that. Her body pressed against his for comfort. It felt natural, sensual and so right that he ached. But he was disgusted with his weakness. Awake, she would never do such a thing. Was he an attention starved youth willing to take physical affection wherever it was available? Eventually anger and shame won out. He pushed her away from him and rolled to the other side of his cot. Her screams grew loud again and he stoically ignored them.

_Severus was at Hogwarts, out in the courtyard. It was a familiar memory, one he'd replayed a thousand times in his head. James' insults blended together, their ugliness no longer having the ability to sting him. He could watch, as if from afar, as the events unfolded. He saw them lift him in the air. He saw Lily come to defend him. He heard himself say the terrible word that could never be taken back. He watched as his only true friend turned her back on him because of what he'd uttered in anger and shame. Then James lifted him back into the air again. By Severus' own goddamned spell! Then he heard the words that nearly stopped his heart. He could no longer simply observe. His body began to tremble as sweat beaded his skin. "Who wants to see me take off Snivilleous' shorts?" No! They couldn't! The warn, graying material was the only thing keeping them from seeing his scars. If they took them off everyone would see what had been done to him. James started to speak the words that would strip him of all dignity. Severus closed his eyes and prayed for a miracle. There was a loud crack and Severus found himself on the ground once more. He looked up and saw Dumbledore standing over him, his wand pointed angrily at James. Before Severus could thank the Professor, the dream changed. Dumbledore aged before his eyes. He stood before Severus and simply said, "Severus, please." The bolt of green light left his wand and struck the man Severus considered father and mentor. The only man who'd ever stood up for him, protected him. He fell back, through the window, dead by Severus' own hand._

Severus woke with a start. He blinked rapidly to clear the sleep from his mind, but every time he closed his eyes he saw piercing blue eyes staring at him. Dumbledore had told him that Severus would be able to discern the difference between a murder, and a friend helping a tired old man die with dignity. That his soul was safe. But Severus had his doubts. Even seeing everything Dumbledore had worked for come to fruit, he would never be rid of the guilt Dumbledore's death caused him.

He turned and found Hermione looking at him curiously. Without a word he left the room. She would ask questions if he stayed. Questions he had no intention of answering. He made tea for them once again and left hers on the living room table. It almost seemed...routine. As if they had been doing it for years. Asinine, really. They had been cohabiting for less than two weeks. The intimacy that Severus felt with her was only an illusion. He'd never shared his roof with a female and didn't know how to adjust to it, that was all. His imagination was taking over and making him think something was there that couldn't be.

Severus stayed in his study all day again. Hermione brought dinner to him at sunset and stayed with him while he ate, much to his displeasure. She chatted happily, more like her old self than he'd seen her since she arrived. She was almost healed, body and spirit. In the morning he would send her on her way. One more healing. One more chance to look at her body, to sleep next to her, to wake up with her in his bed.

Wanting to prolong the evening but not willing to admit it, Severus took the book he was reading out into the living room and read in his chair. He gruffly suggested that Hermione do the same. They read together in amiable silence for several hours. When Hermione started to yawn more often than she turned pages, it couldn't be delayed any longer. They went up the stairs and Hermione stripped off her clothes. As she lay there, Severus ran his wand one last time over her body. It was almost completely pure now. He was able to see past the almost invisible lines and appreciate her body itself. She was breath taking.

His eyes hungrily took in her full breasts, flat stomach and the flare of her hips. And down to the juncture of her thighs...Sweet Salizar she was exquisite there. Perfectly formed, and trimmed so that he could see her clearly. Even her long legs turned him on. He could so easily imagine her with those legs wrapped around him. Urging him on. Her nails scoring his back as he moved roughly inside of her.

With an inaudible moan he tore his gaze from her body. What the fuck was wrong with him? He wasn't a green lad, incapable of controlling himself! But she drew him, called to him on a purely masculine level that he couldn't deny.

Angrily, he stood and threw the blanket over her. She looked up at him, confused and startled. What could he say to her? That he wanted to fuck her so desperately that he was tempted to pin her to the bed and make her scream with pleasure? Yeah, that would go over well. He turned and stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Across the hall from his bedroom there was a small bath. Once the door was closed he stripped off his clothes and turned on the shower. The scourgafy charm had been used on him too many times as a punishment or humiliation. He'd developed a taste for long showers early on. Not that anyone would ever guess it from his usual appearance. But he dared anyone to spend all day in a dank dungeon, bent over a simmering cauldron and not have lank hair within a few hours. That, combined with his crooked teeth seemed to have everyone convinced that he was just lacking in common hygiene. Of course no one knew that he'd taken too many punches to the jaw as a youth for his teeth to grow in straight. And by the time he'd first gone to see Madam Pomfrey, the damage was permanent.

He'd rather have everyone think he was an idiot about his appearance than for them to know what had happened to him as a child.

In the shower he hung his head and let the water rush over him. It was so hot it nearly scalded his skin. Steam rose and curled around the small bathroom. Even after a brusque scrub his erection still wouldn't abate. He couldn't get the picture of Hermione naked and in his bed from his mind. He slammed his hand against the shower wall in frustration. Only one more day. She'd be gone in the morning. But he wouldn't make it to dawn without jumping her if he didn't have some relief.

His hand closed firmly around his cock and he stroked quickly up and down. He was already so on edge that it wouldn't take long for him to finish. Closing his eyes, he let his imagination take over. Fantasies of Hermione danced through his mind, each more erotic than the last. He moaned and moved his hand faster.

Suddenly the shower curtain was thrown back. Hermione's eyes widened in shock when she saw him. Severus stood stock still, frozen in place. It only took a moment for her eyes to slide down his body to where he was gripping himself tightly. Shock turned to curiosity, curiosity turned to embarrassment, embarrassment turned to confusion, confusion turned to horror and horror turned to pity, all in only a moment. It was the pity that jerked Severus to action.

She'd seen him. All of him. Those brown eyes of hers had taken in the part of him that he'd hidden for so long. Twisted ropes of raised flesh that zigzagged across his pelvis and hips. Jagged whorls and ridges that spread across his groin in a macabre constellation. Long spidery scars that ran up the length of his cock and were now stretched thin with his erection.

Shame and humiliation tore through him. Rage burned in their wake. All his memories, all his reactions that were tied up with those scars all incited a mass of jumbled emotions. He wanted to explain, to pretest that he'd stopped it in the end. He wanted to prove that he wasn't a weakling. He felt ignominy that it had happened, that he couldn't change the past. That he'd allowed it to be done to him. And then he felt impotent rage at the memory of it. Anger at being seen as weak. Hatred of anyone who had seen him with his darkest secrets laid bare. Bitter about a past he could not change or deny.

"Oh my god, Severus," Hermione's hand flew to her mouth as if to stifle a shriek. Her eyes went back to his face and suddenly there were tears shining in them.

"_Get out_!" Severus roared at her, shaking with fury. She stood there still, unable to move. "Get the fuck out!" Then she turned and fled. Her body was a flash of his black t shirt and long pale legs and then she was gone. Severus heaved in his breaths as he fought the urge to destroy everything in sight. After a full minute of seething he stepped from the shower and conjured himself a clean pair of jeans and t shirt. Wand clutched tightly in his fist he went down the stairs to face Hermione.

She was perched on the edge of the couch chewing her bottom lip. When he came in she jumped up and faced him.

"Severus, I-"

"Get out," he hissed. She stared at him blankly.

"What?"

"Get. Out. Of. My. House." He enunciated each word through clenched teeth just in case her mental facilities had deserted her.

"Severus, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude! I heard sounds and I just wanted to see if you were-"

"_Are you deaf?_" he roared at her. "I said _get out!_"

"You can't just throw me out! We haven't found a cure for the curse yet!"

"I have made it non lethal and given you the ability to heal the marks it creates. I've brought you back to fucking health. All my free good will has come to an end. I want you out of my home. _Tonight._" He ran his hand through his hair in frustration and realized it was still dripping wet.

"You cannot possibly mean that! I don't want to live the rest of my life with these nightmares! I don't want to have to remove that word from my body every morning!"

"I saved your goddamned life. Find someone else to figure out the fine print."

"There _is_ no one else!"

"Too fucking bad."

"Severus, stop this right now! I'm sorry I intruded and I'm sorry I saw something you were obviously trying to hide." Severus nearly went purple with rage as she spoke. "But I cannot leave! You have to help me!"

"I was going to send you packing in the morning anyways," he sneered. "You've just given me a reason to get you out of my life sooner. I do not _have_ to do anything, Miss Granger. Now shut up and get the fuck out of my house. Before I put that smart mouth of yours to use and start charging for my services." He smirked at her cruelly. Her mouth fell open in shock.

"Wh-what?" She took an involuntary step back. "What do you mean?" She looked so genuinely shocked, so unable to comprehend what he was implying. Severus took two steps towards her and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck. He yanked her against him, her body flush with his. Before she could react he tipped her head up and crushed his lips to hers.

It was hard and hot and demanding. This tongue thrust into her mouth as he twisted her head to the side so that he could deepen the kiss. It was punishment. For her, for seeing the evidence of his weakness. For forcing herself into his life. For inciting this raging lust within him. His other hand came down hard on her ass and dragged her closer, tight against his erection.

Her cry of surprise was caught between them and lost in the kiss. With a low growl Severus lifted his head and sneered down at her. She looked dazed, awash with emotion. Finally, outrage surfaced and she pushed herself away from him.

"I ought to slap your face for that," she whispered.

"It would take more than a slap from you to make me repent, pet." He was mocking her, derailing her.

"You're right. I should hex you- curse you!" She gripped her wand and glared at him. He laughed darkly.

"Do you honestly think you could match me in knowledge and wielding of curses, girl? Don't waste your time. Get out of my house and don't ever come back." He started to turn away but stopped when her hand relaxed on her wand.

"I won't. I can't."

"Do I need to show you again the consequences of staying?" he threatened silkily.

"Is that your price, then?"

"What?"

"You'll keep working on breaking the curse if I let you have me?" She took a step towards him boldly. No one had could ever fault her courage, that much was evident. Severus narrowed his eyes at her.

"You are not a whore, Miss Granger. I suggest you stop acting like one."

"You haven't left me much choice," she said tightly.

"You are no longer dying," Severus spat the words at her. Was she actually considering this? Had he even really meant it? He'd wanted to frighten her, to shock her into leaving. And fuck, he'd wanted to kiss her. But what the hell was he supposed to do now that she was taking him at his word?

"Being your whore until you can cure me cannot possibly be worse than facing those nightmares for the rest of my life."

"You aren't aware of my tastes, pet. You can't be sure of that."

"Will you torture me? Carve vulgar words into my skin? Threaten to give me to an animal to be raped and then torn to pieces? Unless you get off by fucking women at knife point I'd rather be in your bed than in my nightmares."

"So you're willing to _sully_ yourself with me in exchange for my continued help?"

"Call it what you will, Severus. _You_ set the terms. You named your price. If I'm willing to pay it, what else matters?"

She was right. She was a goddamned adult. So what if he hadn't meant it when he'd said it? She agreed to his bargain. She was willing to pay for his services with her body. They were both consenting adults. She knew what she was getting herself into. He wouldn't torture her or physically harm her, and she had decided that it was worth it to let him fuck her for the possibility of escaping her curse. Was he happy that sex with him was only a step above nightly torment? No. But his libido was practically panting for a taste of her. And why not?

For once in his fucking life why shouldn't he get a little repayment for helping someone? He closed the space between them in one step and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck.

"Fine," he whispered. "You've got yourself a deal, pet. I will do everything in my power to cure you of this curse. And you," he pulled her closer so that he could brush her ear with his lips as he spoke. "You will do everything I tell you to in my bed." The words hung in the air for a moment and then she nodded once. "Then lets get started," he murmured.

Desire and excitement tore up through him as they climbed the stairs. With each step anticipation grew until it nearly overwhelmed him. His jeans had become uncomfortably tight over his erection as he swelled bigger each time he thought of what he was about to do. Would she enjoy him fucking her? Would she scream in pleasure as she came around him? He told himself that it didn't matter. They weren't lovers. They weren't even friends. She'd offered herself to him in exchange for his help. He would fuck her however he wanted and not give a damn what she thought of it.

He _would._

When they reached the bedroom Severus closed the door behind them and turned to face his prize.

"Take off the shirt," he ordered. She didn't meet his eyes, but grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it over her head. It dropped to the floor silently. She stood before him, totally naked. She was beautiful. She was breathtaking. She was _his_.

Severus went towards her and let his hands fall heavily on her shoulders. She didn't flinch at the touch as he expected. His hands ran down her arms and his thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts. They purled as a chill swept through her and he growled in satisfaction. When his hands were loosely circling her wrists he caught them together behind her back. The position was vulnerable and submissive and sent a thrill through him. It pushed her chest forward like a feast offered up to him. His free hand skated over her hip and up her ribs. He'd become accustomed to touching her, to feeling her warm skin beneath his calloused fingertips. But this was different. Slowly he traced around her breast and then squeezed. Her breath caught and her eyes closed.

Before he could think about her reaction too much he released her and pushed her towards the bed. When she made a move to climb onto it, he stopped her. Quickly he pulled her back against his chest and tipped her head to the side, exposing her neck. He left a trail of biting kisses down to her shoulder and inhaled her scent. Then he roughly pushed her down so that she was bent over with her elbows on the bed.. He kicked her legs farther apart and unbuttoned his jeans with shaking fingers.

He was so close. He could see her, open to him as she was, he could glimpse flashes of glistening pink that called to him more sweetly than any siren song. When he'd freed his cock it brushed against her ass and she twisted so she could look back at him. Severus grabbed her hair and jerked her head forward so she couldn't see him.

"Don't look at me," he snarled. When she made no move to look back again Severus let go of her hair and slid his hand to between her shoulder blades. He pressed down insistently until she was pressed flush against the bed. Her torso was so low that it raised her hips and ass seductively. Severus took a shuddering breath as he took himself in his hand and guided his cock towards her pussy.

Had his fantasy come to life? Would he wake up any moment and find this had all been a dream? Or was she really here, bent over his bed? He could only imagine what she would feel like wrapped around him, her silky heat gripping him. He pushed his hips forward until they were lined up. The tip of his cock brushed against her, skin to skin. Severus arched his back in pleasure- and Hermione trembled.

With that one small movement, everything was shattered. All the anticipation, all the pleasure crumbled to dust. Suddenly he wasn't standing behind a beautiful woman about to have the time of his life. Suddenly he was a child again, and he was the one trembling as a much larger figure moved behind him. Would she cry, as he had, when she was filled? Would she plead for him to stop just as he had done all those years ago? Or would she take it silently, hatred boiling through her veins like poison as she turned the pain into rage like he had towards the end?

Somehow he sensed that under all her bravado, Hermione would cry silent tears. She would bury the shame and hide her pain. She would tremble in fear whenever he touched her. Severus took a deep breath through his nose to keep from being sick. He pulled his hand off of her back as if he'd been burned. His hands were shaking once more as he quickly buttoned his jeans, but for a much different reason now. Without a word he stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

He doubted she would follow like she had earlier.

**_Did anyone see that coming?! I sure as heck didn't! Hope you all liked it. Sometime very, very soon they are going to be in that bedroom again...and who knows what will happen? Review and let me know what you thought of the chapter! : )_**


	6. Chapter 6

_**You guys are so incredible! Thank you thank you thank you for all the reviews! I love getting them! I literally squeal every time. Yesterday I was sitting on the couch checking my email and I squealed and did a little wiggle dance. My husband walked by and said, "more reviews?" and laughed. So keep reviewing!**_

_**We get a little Severus redemption in this chapter. He was being a jackass, but now we get to hear what she thought about what happened...and what happens when he finds out! Hopefully he will have worked his way back into your good graces by the time the chapter is done : )**_

Chapter 6 - Dig, Incubus

Severus spent the night on the couch, hating himself. He couldn't believe he'd let it get that far. That he'd almost gone through with it. That he was capable of forcing himself on someone that way. And he hated that he hadn't done it. That his damned conscience had taken it away from him. Everyone thought him a bastard, so what was the harm in acting like one? He didn't care about her feelings, she wasn't his responsibility!

So why was he waking up on the couch instead of in his bed, sexually sated and holding a naked woman?

He made morning tea and left Hermione's on the living room table. He didn't think about the gesture, he just did it. Then he spent the day in his study. He sent off messages to several rare book collectors asking for certain books that might contain a whiff of her elusive cure. Then he got into his wall vault and pulled out the darkest books he owned. Books 'good' wizards would faint at.

When he looked up at noon there was a plate with lunch sitting on his desk. He hadn't seen Hermione bring it in, but she must have. Should he read into it? No. Hadn't he left her tea? This was just routine. She was making sure he had all day to look for her cure. When he reappeared at dinner time she had food on the table. She did not look at him. They ate in silence.

Curious to see what she would do, Severus took the book he was currently reading into the living room and sat in his chair. After a moment's hesitation Hermione joined him with a dusty tome from his library on her lap. They read for several hours. Severus forced himself to concentrate on his book and not on each time she shifted her weight, each time she crossed her legs, each time she glanced at him. It was nearing midnight when Hermione finally broke the silence.

"I fell asleep last night waiting for you to come back. When I woke up this morning, I didn't think...I mean it didn't feel like..." She trailed off, not bothering to complete her sentence.

"I did not rape you in your sleep, if that is what your are driving at," he said tightly. "I like my women sentient." He didn't bother to add 'and willing.' Let her make of it what she would.

"I'm not sure you like women at all, after last night," she muttered.

"Excuse me?" he demanded.

"You had me naked and willing and you walked out." Her voice rose as she stared at him.

"Are you complaining," he growled.

"No! Yes! Is there something wrong with me?" It was more of an accusation than a question. Severus gaped at her.

"With you? What could possibly make you think that?"

"Oh I don't know, being left in bed by a man who made it clear only moments before that he was exceptionally horny might do it."

"Be grateful for the reprieve, pet, and don't question me. I may have decided that coerced sex _isn't _better than no sex at all." He snapped the words at her and then looked back to his book dismissively.

"You're going back on our deal?" Her voice was shocked. Worried about her cure? Regretting that she hadn't hidden her fear better last night?

"You're upset about that? Last night you were shaking like a goddamned leaf!" There was a wealth of disgust in his tone but it was directed at himself, not at her.

"Maybe I was shaking in anticipation!"

"What?" He couldn't believe what she'd just said. He must have mis heard her.

"Maybe after I got over the indignity of being forced into this position, I didn't mind it! I had a healthy, active sex life before this blasted curse. Its been a _year._ Maybe I decided sleeping with you wouldn't be so bad after all! And maybe I got caught up in what you were doing and forgot that I'm supposed to loathe you and the situation that you put me in! Of _course_ I was a little anxious- I haven't had sex in a _long _time and from what I saw earlier you're no slouch in the size department. Plus, you made it perfectly clear that you didn't plan to be gentle. But that doesn't mean that I wasn't excited, too!" She rose to her feet angrily. Severus only looked at her, trying to make sense of what she was saying. She'd been...excited? Not afraid, but turned on?

No. It wasn't possible. Severus stood slowly and stalked close to her. He put his hands on the wall on either side of her head, caging her in. She didn't back down. He looked down at her, staring deep into her wide brown eyes. There was a spark in them, a spirit that drew him. Everything in him rose to the challenge he saw there. He pushed her against the wall with his body. When she looked up at him, his mouth came down on hers. It was as hard and unyielding as their first kiss. Hermione didn't just passively accept it this time. She took as much as she gave. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she pulled him closer. When a low moan escaped her throat, Severus tore himself away.

"Fuck!" He turned away from her and punched the wall. When he spoke again, his voice was low and rough. "You don't want me, Hermione. I don't know what the fuck you're playing at, but I suggest you stop before you get burned. Don't think that I'll walk away twice."

"I don't play at anything, Severus."

"What are you hoping to accomplish here? I won't back down at the last minute this time. I am not a decent man, Hermione. I'll take you and fuck you in ways you can't even imagine."

"I've got quite the imagination, Severus. Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Is this a joke to you?"

"No, its not. But if you're trying to shock me into backing down then you'll have to do better than that."

"Not shocked enough yet, pet? Do you want me to tell you about wrapping your hair around my fist and fucking your throat?" He had turned back to her and ran one finger down the long line of her neck. She shivered but didn't look away. "About bending you over and slamming my cock into your tight little pussy? Riding you hard until I come inside of you? Maybe about when I decide to hold you down and take your ass." His voice was a caress but his hand came down hard on her ass and pulled her against his erection. She gasped but still didn't look away. She didn't cringe from his dirty talk, didn't turn from his vulgar speech.

"Just words, Severus? Is that all you have?" Her voice was low and throaty with desire. Severus' hand tightened on her hip as he grit his teeth.

"Back off, pet." He forced the words out when all he wanted to do was throw her down and spread her legs. "I won't offer you another out after this. Once I start I won't stop."

"No one's asking you to stop!" Her voice was twinged with exasperation, and...what? Trepidation? Anticipation?

"That eager to explore the dark side?" he challenged.

"I can handle it," she returned.

"Fine," he growled. "If you think I'm going to turn into a fucking bleeding heart when we get into bed, you're dead wrong, pet. I'm going to do everything I want to you. I'm not going to care if it offends your sensibilities, or if you think its wrong. I can promise you two things. I will never hurt you more than you can handle," she shivered at the way he whispered the words to her. "And you are _mine_ until this is done. No one else touches you. I don't share, Hermione. Do you understand?" She swallowed hard and nodded. "You are mine, Hermione. Say it."

"I'm yours," she whispered. A savage thrill tore up through Severus. He meant what he said. Now that she'd spoken the words he didn't give her a chance to change her mind. He picked her up and strode quickly to the stairs. By the time he reached his bedroom he was so hard that he thought he would burst. He kicked the door closed behind him and set her down.

"Strip," he ordered. She hesitated and he took a menacing step towards her. "_Now._" She pulled her shirt off over her head and then unbuttoned and removed her jeans. Once she was in only her bra and panties she hesitated again. "All of it," he hissed. Slowly she took off her bra and slid her panties down. She was totally naked before him but didn't shy away from his gaze or try and shield herself with her hands. She stared at him, almost defiant.

Severus drank in the sight of her. He started to pull his t shirt off but stopped. She'd already seen enough of his scars. He walked around her slowly until he was behind her. Then he slid his hand down her back, over her hip and onto her stomach where it splayed wide. He pulled her back against him roughly. She gasped when his erection pressed against her back. With a quick flick of his wand he conjured a blindfold and wrapped it securely around her head. Her hands flew up to it and Severus pushed them back down.

"It stays," he commanded. She nodded silently and stayed still, barely daring to breathe. Now that her eyes were covered, Severus let her go to strip his clothes off. Then he turned her around and put both hands on her shoulders, pressing down. She obediently dropped to her knees in front of him. When she reached up, Severus flicked his wand again and bound her arms behind her back. "No hands." She only nodded again and waited. Severus grabbed her hair and pulled her forward insistently. Her lips bumped into the tip of his cock and he hissed in a breath. She licked her lips and then her tongue darted out and caught him. He fought the urge to shove his cock down her throat. Pleasure was shooting through him with enough force to bring a lesser man to his knees.

Finally she drew him into her mouth. She let her lips slide down the length of him and back up to the tip. She moved slowly a few times, her tongue working against his shaft as she moved. When Severus couldn't take any more he gripped her hair tighter. When she went down, he pressed her farther than she'd been going before. He hit the back of her throat and she took a sharp breath in through her nose but didn't try to pull away. He pulled her back and then pushed her down again. This time he didn't stop when he hit the back of her throat. He kept pressing until she swallowed reflexively. Then he slid the rest of the way into her mouth, the tip of his cock buried deep in her throat. She took another sharp breath through her nose and her throat constricted around him.

After a moment he pulled her back and pushed down again. This time he slid into her throat with no resistance. He kept up the rhythm for a few minutes and then Hermione took over on her own. She continued to take him deep, to let her throat close around him. When he knew he was close to coming he gripped her hair again with one hand and cradled the back of her head with the other. Once she was still, he thrust forward with his hips, no longer passively accepting pleasure, but fucking her throat roughly. Hermione moaned erotically and the vibrations danced along the length of him with mind numbing pleasure. His breaths coming fast, Severus gripped her harder, his hips moving faster as his climax rose up. With one final thrust he buried his cock deep and let go. He clenched his teeth tightly to contain the rough cry that accompanied his orgasm. Hermione's throat worked as she swallowed, sending aftershocks coursing through him until it was too much to handle.

He pulled away from her and staggered back. She stayed on her knees, waiting, a faint smile playing on her lips. When he'd caught his breath once more, Severus pulled her up to her feet. He brushed away a drop of moisture on her chin with the pad of his thumb. His fingers curled loosely around her neck, and stroked softly. Then he pushed her back until she fell onto the bed. She sprawled on her back, trying to get her bearings. Severus climbed onto the bed and pinned her shoulders down. With her hands still bound behind her back, her breasts were presented up to him and he took first one, then the other into his mouth. She moaned and panted, legs moving restlessly as he took his time feasting on her. He trailed biting kisses down her stomach and over her hips. When he reached her thighs he stopped.

Hermione practically keened, lifting her hips and straining towards him. In one quick movement, Severus flipped her over onto her stomach. He leaned down over her, letting his body blanket hers as he thrust his hips slowly against her. She moaned and bucked back on him. As he grew hard again, Severus rose up on his knees behind her. Both hands gripped her hips and lifted her to her knees. With her shoulders flat on the bed, her spine arched down and tilted her hips up to him. She was open and vulnerable to him. He ran one hand down the long line of her back, up over her ass, and palmed her pussy. She arched deeper into his touch, rolling her hips closer to him.

Severus spread her open with his fingers, nearly groaning in appreciation at the sight of her wetness. He dipped one finger down and thrust it inside of her. She cried out, her body contracting sharply. Sweet Salizar she was tight. He mercilessly worked a second finger into her, stretching her slowly. She was so wet, slick with excitement, but so damned tight that he wouldn't fit yet. When her body accommodated two fingers, he pushed a third into her. She panted softly and he knew she was feeling the first pang of discomfort. She was stretched tight, but his cock would stretch her more. So he let his thumb brush over her clit. She almost screamed and tightened around him more sharply than a fist could have. He worked his fingers in and out of her quickly now, not sure how much longer he could wait.

Unable to bear it any longer, Severus removed his fingers and gripped himself. She cried out at the loss and he thrust his fingers into her mouth. She froze for a moment and then started to suck on his fingers. God, whether she was ready or not he couldn't wait any longer. He pulled his fingers from her mouth and gripped her hip. The tip of him brushed over her, making him slick with her excitement. She pushed her hips back enticingly and Severus tightened his grip on her hip almost to the point of pain. He let the tip of him slide along her and sink less than an inch into her. Then he moved the hand that he'd been gripping himself with down, around her stomach and between her legs. He stroked his fingertip up over her clit and she shuddered in pleasure. She tightened, and when her body relaxed he thrust forward. His cock sank several inches into her.

She gasped, then moaned. Severus moved his fingers against her again. Once more when she relaxed he thrust further into her until he was buried all the way inside of her. They were both panting with the exertion. She was wrapped so tightly around him he could barely move. Fiery heat gripped him. He pulled back and thrust forward sharply. They both groaned. Once he knew he wasn't going to tear her, Severus put both hands on her hips and slammed into her. He moved fast and hard, fucking her mercilessly.

Hermione buried her face in the blanket as cries of pleasure were wrung from her. Severus wanted this to last longer, wanted to ride her for hours, but didn't fight it when his climax rose within him. She was _his_. He could come in her now, and fuck her again in ten minutes if he wanted. He could do whatever he wanted to her. As he pounded into her he snaked his hand around her again and stroked her clit. She screamed long and loud as her orgasm broke over her. She clamped down on him so tightly that all Severus could do was thrust deep into her and ride it out. She shuddered and gasped for breath as her body clenched around him. When she loosened enough that he could move again, Severus slammed into her hard, riding her with brutal force as he came. He continued to thrust, unwilling to let the pleasure die as he drew out both of their releases.

Finally he collapsed over her. Drained, he pulled her bindings free by hand instead of with magic. He rolled to the side and she stayed on her stomach, only moving her arms up to lay her head on them. They both caught their breath. After several minutes she started to remove the blindfold.

"Wait," Severus stopped her until he got under the blanket. Once he was covered he moved his hands and let her take off the blindfold. She blinked in the semidarkness and then her eyes focused on his face. Severus waited, unsure how she would react. He said nothing, keeping his jaw tightly locked and his face indifferent.

"Wow," she breathed. Of all the reactions he'd imagined, that wasn't one of them. His shock must have showed on his face because she smiled. "I mean...wow. Who knew?"

"Knew what?" he snapped.

"That it would...be like _that_!"

"Like that?" His tone stayed deadpan even though his heart was pounding. Why did he care what she thought? She was a fuck toy, nothing more. So why was he holding his breath waiting to see what she would say?

"Amazing. Incredible. Mind blowing." She rolled onto her back and put her hand to her forehead. "Is it always like that?" Severus smothered the spike of pleasure and pride.

"I'll admit, that was particularly pleasurable, even compared to what I am used to," he admitted stiffly.

"Why, Sev, is that a compliment?" She laughed softly.

"Merely noting that dominating you seems especially enjoyable for me." He glared at the satisfied expression on her face. She only laughed again.

"Well apparently being dominated by you is 'especially enjoyable' for me as well. We definitely need to do that again, and soon." She let out a contented sigh and Severus rose up on his forearms until he was leaning over her.

"You do not get a say on what we do, or when we do it, pet. You are mine, remember?" He growled the words softly. "You are mine to do with as I please, as often as I please." She gaped at him, shocked. A smug smile quirked his lips. "Fortunately for you, I do plan to do that again, and soon. Over and over until neither of us can move. Until you're hoarse from screaming my name in pleasure." His smile turned wicked and he took her mouth with his own.

_**Well, what do you think? Did that make up for his earlier idiocity? Keep in mind that Sev is very dominant in my story, and they will discuss the reasons for that together later on when they talk about his past. In my story Hermione is submissive (at least in bed!) so don't think she's just being a push over or anything. If you're unfamiliar with the Sub/Dom world, that means that she actually likes him telling her what to do and being forceful with her.**_

_**Review review review! Don't forget, I can always be bribed to put up another chapter tomorrow with enough reviews!**_


	7. Chapter 7

**_You didn't think I'd forgotten about you, did ya? No, my amazing, wonderful, awesome readers and reviewers, I did not forget. This chapter is a bit shorter, but it expands on their blossoming arrangement. Hope you like it!_**

**_Last time..._**

"You do not get a say on what we do, or when we do it, pet. You are mine, remember?" He growled the words softly. "You are mine to do with as I please, as often as I please." She gaped at him, shocked. A smug smile quirked his lips. "Fortunately for you, I do plan to do that again, and soon. Over and over until neither of us can move. Until you're hoarse from screaming my name in pleasure." His smile turned wicked and he took her mouth with his own.

**_And now..._**

Chapter 7 - May the Living be Dead, Flogging Molly (this is a bit different than some of the other music I've put with these chapters -or my other story too!- but I absolutley love Flogging Molly and I'm going to sprinkle some Irish goodness through here for ya!)

Severus did indeed take her over and over again. In the cover of darkness he pulled her back against him while they were both on their sides and took her that way. Then he put her on her hands and knees. In that position she could use her arms to rock back and meet his thrusts. He bent her over the edge of the bed. He fucked her all the ways he could think of while keeping her carefully turned away from him. Even in the darkness he would not take her face to face, where she might see his scars in a glimmer of moonlight. And he never, ever let her hands wander over him.

They finally fell into an exhausted sleep late in the night. Hermione's head had been pillowed on his bicep, her hips pressed back against his. It was a position the muggles might call _spooning._ He could hardly bear the indignity of being in a position so terribly named, but it felt so right that he didn't move. When he woke in the morning Hermione had turned in his arms and had her face tucked against his chest. There were a few lines of fear etched on her forehead that he smoothed away with a soft touch of his fingers. And he could see on her arm that the word had worked its way over her forearm again. While she still slept he traced the marks and murmured the healing spell until they were all gone.

He was just about to slip from the bed when her eyes fluttered open. She blinked at him, at first confused, and then memory washed over her. She tucked her chin and a slight blush crept up her neck. With a slow, sweet smile she reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Hi," she murmured.

"Good morning," he returned formally. He didn't know the first thing about 'pillow talk.' He wasn't one to chat docilely about the weather or whisper compliments to her. Her smile didn't falter at his brusque words. She rolled onto her back and stretched languidly.

"I'm a little sore this morning," she mused out loud, sounding surprised. As she brought her arms down she saw her forearm. She twisted it to look at first one side, then the other. She looked at him questioningly.

"I've already taken care of them," he commented. He kept his tone light but her eyes warmed. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him close.

"Thank you," she whispered. Severus didn't know what to do so he patted her back awkwardly. When she pulled away he checked twice to make sure the blanket was still covering him. He moved to roll over and get out of the bed but realized there was no good way to get up without her seeing him. He considered using the blanket to wrap around himself like an oversized towel but couldn't make himself do it. The mental picture it created when he imagined it was just too ridiculous.

"Turn around," he said gruffly. Hermione blinked at him in surprise.

"What?"

"Turn around," he said again. Was she suddenly incapable of hearing him? Were simple commands beyond her grasp? Her brows drew together in confusion but turned over obediently.

"Is this some kind of weird sex thing? Because I thought you'd still be worn out from last night but if you're in the mood-" She stopped when she glanced over her shoulder. Severus was off the bed and fully dressed. He took a few steps towards the door and then turned back to her. "Oh," she said softly. "No morning quickie then?"

Severus didn't know if she sounded relieved or put out. He absently wondered why he hadn't thought about fucking her again as soon as he woke up. At the mention he was hard and aching. He considered getting back into bed again but decided against it. He'd just managed to get out of the damned bed. He wasn't getting back in it.

"No," he said finally. "But I expect you to be ready and willing when I come for you later on." He growled the words and instead of the surprise or annoyance he'd expected, she quirked a brow and smirked.

"Oh I think I'm more than ready when you _come_ for me." She waggled her eyebrows at him suggestively.

"Don't make me put that smart mouth of yours to better use, pet." He glowered at her but couldn't help the way his lips twitched. She was sharp as a whip, and amused him. She was one hell of a fuck, and stronger than she looked. Was there nothing he didn't admire about her? He left the room, disgusted with himself for acting like a lovesick adolescent.

Once their tea was made he went into his study as he usually did. Two owls waited perched on his desk. The bigger owl looked bedraggled and had a large package tied to its leg. Severus removed the parcel. The owl shot him a look that could have passed for gratitude and flew out the window. The package contained one of the books he'd requested. The second owl carried a note saying that the book he wanted was unavailable but listed the name of another wizard who owned a copy.

Severus spent the morning reading in the book he'd received. Around noon Hermione came in with a tray and lunch. She was wearing a skirt instead of jeans and Severus couldn't help the way his eyes took in the sight of her bare legs appreciatively. She greeted him brightly and set the tray down. Severus rose and stood behind her while she arranged the food. When she straightened, their bodies were flush together. Her breath caught as she felt his growing erection against her back. Severus slid one hand up her shirt to cup her breast. He bit down on her ear gently as his other hand skated down her thigh and lifted the skirt.

Hermione didn't protest when he bent her over the desk and slid her panties down. He pushed his fingers against her and growled his satisfaction when he found her wet. He thrust into her quickly, filling her. They both moaned. He took her hard and fast. Parchment and quills scattered as the desk rocked with the force of his thrusts. She came quickly, a shocked, pleased exclamation turning into a long moan as she orgasmed. Severus followed her and then pulled away before he'd even caught his breath. His pants were buttoned again by the time she straightened and turned to face him. There was a rosy glow to her cheeks and her hair was sensually mussed.

"Well," she said with a shaky laugh. "That was...unexpected."

"I told you I would take you whenever I wanted." His voice was tight as he wondered if she was upset about their little romp. "If you have a problem with that-"

"No," she cut him off before he could finish. "I'm just surprised, is all. Pleasantly surprised, but surprised all the same."

"Sex in the afternoon shocks you?" His tone was droll.

"Well- I keep waiting for you to finish and leave me hanging," she blurted out. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that?

"And...you're upset about this?" His brows drew together in confusion. He would _never_ understand women.

"NO! I just... I'm surprised!"

"Surprised that I'm good in bed." There was anger in his voice now.

"No damn it," she shook her head in frustration. "I just mean that even guys who are good in bed can't always... you know!" Her cheeks heated.

"You can't have been with that many men who were good in bed if they couldn't keep you satisfied," he said somewhat smugly. To be honest he hadn't set out to keep her sexually satisfied. He'd been all set to ignore her needs completely and not care if she got off at all. But once he'd gotten there, she'd been so responsive, and it had heightened his own pleasure to hear her screaming his name as she came, and the way she squeezed around him as she-

Well it was obvious that he would keep her coming. He was becoming hopelessly addicted to her orgasms.

"I guess you're right," she murmured, a cat-got-the-canary grin spreading across her face.

"Run along now, pet. I've got my end of this bargain to keep up." Even to his own ears Severus' voice sounded unusually cheerful. It was still strained and tight, but in a more familiar way. Softer, somewhat amused. What the hell was happening to him? A couple of mind blowing fucks and he was turning into a fluffy bunny?

Half of him wanted to do something truly shocking in bed, to scare her off. His life could go back to normal. He would return to his solitary existence. He wouldn't have to deal with confusing emotions that tangled him up in knots.

The other half of him wanted her to stay forever. Even as the thought emerged he slapped it down. But he pulled it back out and examined it carefully. He wasn't so foolish as to _love _the Granger girl. It was out of the question. He admired her courage, even if it made her incredibly stupid at times. And aside from that ridiculous Gryffindor habit, he couldn't fault her intelligence. She was bright, very _very _bright. They didn't spend much time talking, but when they had she'd shown herself to be knowledgeable in anything Severus chose to speak of. Apparently in a non classroom setting she wasn't quite the insufferable know it all that he'd always known her to be. She was beautiful, incredibly sexy in a natural sort of way, and so good in bed he grew hard just thinking about it. She was a decent cook now that her magic was working properly. For a female she didn't seem particularly emotional or needy. And for the most part now she seemed to ignore when he snapped at her.

All in all, she was damn near the perfect woman, if there could be a perfect woman for him.

Would it really be so bad to keep her around? He'd always be sexually sated, that was for sure. Well fed and with plenty of intelligent conversation to fill the evenings.

But what was he even thinking about? She would be gone as soon as he cured her. And despite what a bastard he was, he absolutely would _not_ purposely take longer finding her cure just to keep her around longer. A woman like her would want commitment, promises, declarations of love. Commitment he could do, sure. He'd never been one to wander. Even promises he could handle. He was a man of his word. But silly, pesky emotions he had little time and no patience for. She would expect the man she ended up with to bare his soul to her. To share all his deepest thoughts.

Severus had no intention of doing those things with anyone, ever.

So what was best? In the long run it might be best if she left now. Before she could ingrain herself any farther into his life. Before he didn't just like her presence, but craved it. He was already walking a thin line in that respect. He was on razors edge.

Even if it was for the best, and even if he could do something that was truly shocking to her, he wasn't sure she would actually leave. He'd picked up a vast knowledge while living among death eaters for so long. There were sexual appetites that made even the most stoic cringe. Severus considered his tastes dark and somewhat perverse. But he'd seen much worse. Even if he could force himself to do some of the disgusting things he'd seen and heard about, he wasn't sure it would be enough. It would break the tenuous thread of companionably that had grown between them, but probably wouldn't run her off.

Severus had never been one to live only for today. He'd always looked ahead. He'd been forced to see things in the long run in order to survive. But now...was it best to just embrace the day? Enjoy her while he had her and not look to the future? It went against his every instinct. But maybe it was for the best now...

_**What did you think? Don't forget to review and let me know! A little teaser about the next chapter...we are going to see what happens when Hermione tells Severus 'no.' Dun dun dunnnnn. They are on their way to a relationship, but snarky, nasty Snape is planning on making a few more guest appearances before the end!**_

_**Review review review, and tune in on Tuesday for the next exciting episode of The Cure! ; )**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Here it is everyone! Now lets see what happens!**_

Chapter 8 - Moonlight Sonata (this is a Beethoven song, off the beaten track for me musically, but I love this song and I thought it fit with this chapter in a really eerie way!)

That night they had dinner together in the dining room. Hermione seemed particularly attentive to the food, she'd made sure everything was perfect. She asked him about the book he was doing research in and they had discussed the merits of particular disenchantments. After a heated but enjoyable discussion they retired to the living room to read. Hermione had already finished her book from before and Severus told her to avail herself of his library for any other books she wished. With a grin so joyous that it twisted his heart, she headed off to the library and returned with a small stack of books.

By the time night fell her good mood seemed to have fallen away. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair often enough to drive Severus to near madness. She kept flicking furtive glances at him over the top of her book. He was just about to change his mind about the merits of living with her when she stood and announced she was tired.

Severus was tired too, but for some ridiculous reason he didn't want it to appear that he was following her up to bed like a lovesick puppy. He only nodded in acknowledgment and went back to his book. A few minutes later, he tucked the book back in his study and headed up the stairs. When he went into the bedroom, Hermione was under the covers, laying on her side with her eyes open. He could see the neckline of one of his t shirts peeking from under the blanket. He had to admit that he found it sinfully sexy to see her in his shirts, but he wasn't sure why she'd bothered putting it on.

"Strip," he ordered softly as he closed the door. Hermione sat up and knitted her fingers together. She looked at the blanket, then up at him, and then down to the blanket again. "What?" His voice sounded scathingly exasperated, even to his own ears.

"I...I don't want to have sex tonight." She spoke quietly, only daring a quick glance up at him. Severus stiffened.

"Excuse me?" His whisper was menacing.

"I don't want to have sex tonight," she repeated, a little louder this time. She glanced up at him again and looked away when she saw the anger flashing in his eyes. He stalked across the room and ripped the blanket off of her. She jumped and Severus quickly pinned her to the bed. His mouth crashed against hers, his tongue delving deep. When he broke away he left a trail of kisses down to her shoulder and bit down. She arched up to him and closed her eyes.

"You don't _get _to make that decision, pet. You are mine, remember? Whatever I want, whenever I want." He growled the words against her skin, hands touching her everywhere. She was gasping and moaning, writhing under him.

"Stop," she groaned, still arching to his touch, still closing her eyes in pleasure.

"No." He kept going, kept driving her higher and higher, making them both wild.

"Please," she gasped. That froze him. "Please," she repeated. She wanted him. He knew she did. Her body was aching for him. Why was she pleading with him to stop? He wanted to snarl _no_ again and simply take her. She was his, goddamn it! He didn't care if she had some stupid reason for not wanting him tonight. Her needs didn't fit into their bargain. But her pleading doused his lust. He could remember too many times _he'd _been the one pleading. Begging for a reprieve. Praying someone would save him.

"Why?" The word was torn from him, anguish twisting up with anger and a thread of hurt. He stared into her eyes, willing her to give him an answer. To tell him something he could dismiss and ridicule or something that would explain and sooth.

"I'm...sore. Down there." Her face flamed and she refused to meet his eyes. "I tried a healing spell but it doesn't seem to work the same." Realization dawned and Severus felt himself return to his calm rationality as tangled emotions subsided. He released her arms and framed her face with his hands.

"Look at me," he commanded. She met his eyes and then looked away again. "I'll not repeat myself, Hermione. Do what I say." Unable to deny the authority in his tone she finally looked at him and held his gaze. "You are mine, Hermione. Mine to do with as I please. If you want out you can leave my home right now and never come back. But if you stay you submit yourself to me completely." Despair flared in her eyes and her shoulders slumped in defeat. She wouldn't leave. "However," he added softly, "I promised you I would not physically harm you."

"Not more than I can handle, is what you said." She looked at him accusingly, as if the condition was a terrible one. He laughed darkly.

"Ah, pet, I was referring to something altogether different when I added that amendment." Carnal appreciation made him harden even more at the thought. "And soon I will show you exactly what I meant." She gasped when he pressed himself against her swiftly. "But not tonight. You cannot tell me _no_, but it is necessary that you tell me things that concern your health. That includes when you are sore. You've given me your body. You must also give me your trust."

"I do trust you," she protested. He stopped her with a slight shake of his head.

"You must trust me to take my pleasure from you in a way that will not break my promise." His voice was still soft and gentle, but it hardened again for his next words. "You may make your concerns and needs known, but do not presume to think you get to choose. While you are in my home and abiding by this deal, that decision is not yours to make."

Hermione nodded slowly, absorbing what he'd said. When she'd taken a deep breath and seemed ready, Severus spoke again.

"Now then. Lets try this again." He rolled off of her. "Strip." She bit her bottom lip but pulled the t shirt off. "You seem less than excited, pet. Is there something on your mind?" He drawled the words as if he really had no idea what it could be.

"I'm sore," she said again, this time with all traces of defiance gone from her voice.

"Thank you for telling me," he said formally. "I will take that into consideration." He flicked his wrist and the lamp went out. Darkness overtook the room, except where moonlight bathed them in a soft glow. "Turn over." Hermione did as she was told and he knew she was fighting the urge to look over her shoulder at him. He took off his shirt but left his pants on for the time being. Lying next to her propped up on his elbow, he let his free hand slowly trace over her body. He loved the line of her back, the graceful arch of her spine. The soft flare of her hips. The curve of her ass. She enticed him and nearly drove him to obsession.

He parted her legs and slid his hand between them. She inhaled sharply at his light touch, tensing. In retrospect, Severus wasn't surprised she was sore. She hadn't had sex in a year and then he'd had her more times than he could count the night before. He wasn't breaking any records, but he was certainly bigger than average. And to a woman as small as her that meant quite a bit. He was actually surprised she hadn't been hurting when he'd fucked her at lunch. But he supposed that his rough ride then had been what pushed her over the edge from tender to outright sore.

As he paused he allowed heat to gather in his fingertips. It was similar to the magic he used to heal the slices in her skin, but not quite the same. He wasn't surprised she hadn't been able to heal it herself. There was a subtle difference between pain from injury and soreness from overuse. Particularly in this region. Not just any healing spell would work properly. Once his fingers were starting to burn with the heat he brushed over her again. She tensed, then relaxed. Slowly he slid one finger into her. Surprised, she glanced at him over her shoulder.

"Don't look at me," he commanded softly. But his voice held none of its usual menace as he spoke. Hermione turned obediently back but couldn't get the image of him out of her head. The moonlight spilling over his bare chest, making the scars snaking up from over his stomach almost opaque. His long black hair brushing his broad shoulders. His eyes surprisingly gentle as he stared down at her. And his touch... His hand was insistent, forceful, but she felt no pain. There was a cooling sensation alternating with a relaxing heat coming from his fingers. She could feel her soreness melting away as he slowly dipped his finger in and out of her.

The movements changed subtly, going from healing to sexual. She started to not just relax and accept the soothing rhythm but to arch up to it and allow the pleasure to build. When she was in a fever-pitch, Severus shifted back, shucked his pants and then covered her with his body. His erection prodded between her legs and the slowly sank into her. She moaned in bliss and lifted her hips to take him deeper. As he began to thrust his hands slid over her shoulders, down the length of her arms and his fingers laced with hers. They were pressed close together, his chest to her back, his mouth moving against her shoulder, their legs tangled together.

It was the most intimate way they'd slept together. Somehow it seemed more than just fucking. Not quite making love, but somewhere in between. He moved hard and deep, but slow, as if he was savoring her. Even without him stroking her like he usually did, Hermione rose and rose until she was on the edge of an orgasm.

"Hermione," he breathed against her skin, a whisper that contained such bittersweet emotion that it slipped inside her heart and wrapped tight. She peaked and squeezed his hands as she screamed his name. With a low cry he followed her. He didn't move again for a long time, his forehead resting against her back as he caught his breath. After a quick, innocuous kiss against the base of her neck that Hermione wasn't even sure he realized he'd given her, he shifted to the side, bring her with him.

Still pressed close together, Severus rested his chin lightly on the top of her head and allowed himself to enjoy the contact. Hermione traced his hands with her fingers. His were so much bigger than hers, rough and calloused with long, strong fingers. She laced her fingers into his once more and sighed contentedly.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" His voice was deep and rough but colored with surprise.

"For that. For giving me a reason to trust you this way. I know you expected me to give it to you automatically, and that I gave myself to you no holds barred, but... Well I have never had to submit to anyone sexually and I wasn't sure if it would mean that you liked that kind of thing."

"Oh there is a thin line between pleasure and pain. A line I intend for us to explore. But it doesn't turn me on to think of causing you real injury or hurt. I'm not a sadist, Hermione." He took a deep breath. "I don't want you to ever truly fear anything that I do to you. I will push you beyond your comfort zone, I will show you things that might shock you or offend you. I will do all the things that I like to you and I expect you to not complain. But I will _never_ truly hurt you. That much you can trust. And you are always free to walk away."

She started to protest, to bring up her curse, but he stopped her.

"You think that you need to stay to find your cure, but I want you to remember that I am not forcing you to stay. I am not forcing you to submit to me. Your life isn't in danger. You could leave tomorrow and go about your day normally. You could decide that you are willing to take the time to search for the cure yourself. You are my submissive, not my prisoner." He tightened his hands on hers. "You _always_ have a choice. You can stay and be mine, or you can leave."

He wanted to pretend that he didn't know why it mattered so much to him that she knew that. He wanted to pretend that making sure she was willing didn't make a difference to him. But he couldn't fight the truth. He would dominate her and control her, he would use her when and how he wanted. But it was always her decision to take it or not. She was free to leave. She wasn't trapped like he had been all those years ago. He would_ not_ become the monster that had haunted his childhood.

Suddenly Hermione turned in his arms. Severus was about to push her away, to force her back so she wasn't facing him. But before he could, she buried her face against his neck. Her arms came around him in a tight embrace.

"Thank you," she whispered again.

"Stop thanking me," he said roughly, putting his arms hesitantly around her.

"No," she said cheekily. He could feel her smile against him and felt his own answering. "That much is still mine to do or not do." They were silent for a long while. Hermione's hands slowly stroked down his back. Discomfort pricked him but the touch was so light, so caressing that he couldn't bring himself to stop her. Ever so softly her fingers traced the raised lines of scars that marred his skin. Her movements slowed. Her breathing deepened. Just when Severus thought she was asleep, she murmured softly. "You really are a good man." Then she nuzzled closer against him and fell asleep.

_**Weeeelllll? What did you think? I love this chapter and I hope you all did too. I'm going to be a terrible tease and tell you that the next chapter is going to be one of the longest ones, and its going to be one of the dirtiest and most intense. Excited to find out what I mean? Review and let me know! ; )**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Ok, everybody, here we go! Now we get to see Severus' reaction to Hermione calling him a good man, and we get to see what happens when she tells him no! Be warned, there might be what some of you consider...unusual sex...in this chapter, so don't be shocked! Hope you all love it!**_

9 - Closer, NIN and Creep, Radiohead (I've used both these before but this chapter is so charged that they just belonged here!)

Severus laid awake for hours thinking about what she'd said. She was cradled in the circle of his arms, warm and soft and safe. When her nightmares came he couldn't help kissing her forehead and smoothing away the lines of fear that etched into her face. He healed the slices when they came. He stared down at her, unsure what the hell he was doing.

He felt like he was living a lie. She thought he was something he wasn't. Just because he wasn't a monster didn't mean he was a good man. He would never be _good. _It wasn't in his nature, and he was too damn old to change. Had he been going easy on her, letting her think he was less than a bastard? It was a dangerous slope.

When the war ended he'd sworn to himself that he would never again hide who he was. He'd spent almost twenty years living a lie. Was letting Hermione think he was a good man lying to her? Was it lying to himself? Tonight he'd gotten wrapped up in the persona she'd thrust upon him. For a little while he'd thought maybe, just maybe he really was the way she saw him.

But no. He wasn't. She was seeing what she wanted to see. Maybe it soothed her sensibilities if she thought the man she was giving her body to was a decent man. Maybe she was entertaining silly romantic notions to make it easier to face the reality of her situation. But he wasn't the man she thought him to be. He'd coerced a young woman into being his sex slave. He'd taken her with little regard to her feelings. And he planned to introduce her into a dark world of deviant pleasures. Romantic heroes didn't do such things. No, he was a bastard through and through.

Bitter disappointment rushed through him. Who was he kidding? Had he actually for a single moment entertained the possibility that he could be a good, decent man? It wasn't Hermione's fault that he was who he was. But the anger that coursed through him would be directed at her, because she'd taken the possibility and dangled it in front of him. She'd let him think for a moment that...

He stopped tracing the letters forming on her arm and forced himself to go to sleep. He should have pushed her away from him, but couldn't bring himself to do it. Even angry at himself, at her, at the world, he could not give up having her sleep so peacefully, so trustingly, so sweetly in his arms. So he tightened his arms around her and vowed to himself that tomorrow he would show her who he really was. By the time he was finished there could be no mistaking him for what he wasn't. She would probably never turn to him like this again, even if it took ten years to find her cure. A wave of loss crashed over him at the thought. He pushed it down. He would have to live with it.

Even one night of this was more than a man like him deserved. He would store up the memory and take it out to examine on dark days.

Finally, sleep took him.

In the morning, Severus woke up before Hermione. He quickly healed the marks on her arm that had come during his sleep. Then he disentangled himself from her and sat up. As he sat on the edge of the bed he reminded himself that he wouldn't be doing her any favors by letting her keep her fantasies about him as a hero. And he had more self respect than to pretend. So a hard dose of reality would be best for both of them. He gritted his teeth as an image of her face etched with hatred and disgust flashed in his mind. He would deal with that when it came. He could handle it. He had to.

Suddenly a soft, warm hand stroked his back. He twisted around and saw Hermione blinking sleepily up at him, a sweet smile on her face. Her fingers brushed down his spine. Then they ran along the ridge of a scar that curled around his hip and ended over his pelvis. Memories rushed back to him at her touch. The lash coming down hard against him and licking up around his back. The next blow had landed true to its aim. The scar ran from his right hip, across his cock and down to his left thigh.

"Turn around," he snarled at her. She jumped at the venom in his voice and only stared at him for a moment. "Turn the fuck around!" He snatched her hand and threw it back at her. Shocked, she rolled over and sat up. Severus dressed quickly.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, concern lacing her words. "Where did they-" she stopped when she saw him leave the room and close the door behind him.

Severus fought the urge to make her tea when he made his own. It had become habit now. He had actually grabbed the teacup and then forced himself to put it back. They weren't an old married couple. They were sharing a roof and had a mutually beneficial arrangement. That was it.

By the time he heard her come down the stairs he was already in his study. When she came in with lunch at noon he studiously ignored her. When she came in to tell him dinner was ready he curtly told her he wouldn't be joining her. He stayed away from her all day, reverting to his old schedule and habits. It was late when he finally emerged. Hermione was reading a book in the living room. She sat comfortably in her chair, turning pages carefully in the old book. When had it become _her_ chair? When had the sight of her there in the evenings become expected and comforting?

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and cleared his throat to get her attention. She looked up, and then gave him a tentative smile. He did not return one.

"Come," he held out his hand and waited for her to put down the book and walk over to him. He grabbed her arm tightly and led her up the stairs.

"Severus? Have I done something wrong?"

"No," he said roughly.

"You just seem..." She took a deep breath and her brows drew together. "Different. Angry."

"This is who I am, Hermione." He spoke the words angrily. He wasn't different. This was who he'd always been. Maybe she'd brought out long buried parts of himself, but they weren't really who he was. She was about to find out who he really was.

At the top of the stairs he pushed her towards the bedroom and waited outside. He braced his arms on the door frame and took a deep breath. After this, she would never look at him the same again. She would probably despise him. Even if she enjoyed it in the end- and he intended to make damn sure she did- she would still resent him. He looked up at her, standing in the room uncertainly, flashing him that tentative smile again. He forced his face to remain expressionless and went into the room. He closed the door behind him with solid finality. She jumped a little at the loud sound and tried to laugh to cover it.

"Strip," he ordered. She complied willingly. Without being told she got onto the bed and lay there, waiting. It was enough to make his cock strain hungrily for her. The thought of what he was about to do to her excited him beyond measure even while it chafed his conscience. Would she fight him? He doubted it. Would she loathe him for it? Probably.

He turned her onto her hands and knees. When he was certain she wouldn't turn around, he took off his clothes and climbed up behind her. His fingers stroked over her quickly and satisfied she was wet enough, he thrust into her without preamble. Hermione stilled with shock for a moment. Usually he teased her, teased both of them, before he entered her. But she caught on to his rough rhythm quickly and was soon pushing back to meet his thrusts. He put his right hand between her legs to drive her higher while his other hand slid across her hip and down between their bodies.

Hermione felt a cool, slippery liquid coat her ass and then she felt Severus' hand. He pushed his fingers firmly, insistently, only just not painfully against her ass. She gasped and squirmed away. Severus pulled her back to him roughly and touched her again. Her body tensed and she started to turn and look at him.

"Don't," he snapped tightly. She stopped and stared down at the blanket. "We are going to do something a little different tonight, pet. I think when we first discussed this venture I promised to take your ass. And I'm a man of my word."

"Severus, I'm not-"

"Unless you're physically hurt, don't say another fucking word." He thrust forward hard so he was buried deeper inside her. She gasped and was surprised at the streak of pleasure that shot up through her. "This is what I want to do tonight, pet. And so its what we are doing. So either shut up...or get out." His tone was cold and final. A shudder ran through her body as she considered his words. He'd made it clear that everything was her choice, in the end. She could walk away right now. But then she had almost no chance of ever being cured.

Severus waited as she quickly and silently came to a decision. Some part of him expected her to slap him and leave. But her body relaxed against him as she let out a long, accepting breath.

"You won't hurt me," she whispered quietly to herself, as if she needed the reassurance. Severus fought the urge to soothe her. He wanted to hold her and tell her he would make sure she felt nothing but pleasure. He wanted her to _want_ him to do it. What rubbish. He was Severus Snape, not some sniveling idiot. He didn't owe her any explanations. He didn't owe her anything at all.

His hand pressed against her again. She still tensed, though he could tell she was trying to fight her body's natural reaction.

"Relax," he snapped.

"I'm trying," she snapped back. Severus couldn't help the small smile of respect that tugged at his lips. She had pluck, he'd give her that. As she took a deep breath he managed to slide one finger into her. She gasped again, body confused and uncertain. He knew that she wasn't in pain, but it was certainly an uncomfortable sensation. Unfamiliar and taboo. He worked it slowly in and out of her while his hips moved, thrusting his cock inside her pussy in a matching rhythm. He continued to stroke between her legs until she'd relaxed almost completely again.

Then he started stroking her in earnest, pushing her to the brink of orgasm. He thrust harder and quicker. Right as tremors started to wrack her body he pulled out. She cried out in dismay, her orgasm still sitting on a razors edge. Though it was awkward, he manipulated his hand so that he could stroke her and thrust two fingers into her at the same time. She moaned low, caught up in the pleasure. He repositioned his cock, spreading the slick liquid over both of them. She naturally tensed again when the tip of him pressed against her, but she was so caught up in the pleasure of what his hand was doing that she simply wasn't capable of being tense for long.

After a few moments she was nearly frantic with the need to come. She found herself pressing back against him, wanting to be filled by him so she could find her release, so desperate that she didn't care where he filled her. Her rational mind was screaming at her that this wasn't what she wanted but it was a scream caught in a crowd of lust that was all screaming too. And her lust was screaming _yes yes anything! _He pushed slowly, only moving when her body was completely relaxed and ready for him.

The sensation was confusing, frightening in its intensity. It was so foreign to her but she was such a slave to her passion that she found intense pleasure in it. He sank into her painstakingly slowly. When he finally stopped, his hips flush against her, they both groaned out loud. She was tighter than he'd ever imagined. That, combined with the...the wickedness of what he was doing brought him right to the brink faster than he'd thought possible. He'd done this before, but never with someone like Hermione. She made it all the more forbidden, all the more tempting, all the more alluring. She was so sweet and innocent that taking her like this was the ultimate dirty act. He took sharp breaths and fought the need to come immediately.

Slowly he pulled out, not all the way, but enough that they both moaned again when he pushed back into her. Hermione was nearly shredding the sheets with her nails, her body frozen as she was forced to simply accept the erotic, extrinsic, unimaginable pleasure. She was so wild with the need to come that the next time he pulled out, she rocked back sharply and impaled herself onto him. At her desperate sign of need, Severus lost all control. He stroked her faster and firmer, his hips thrusting into hers without mercy.

"Harder," she moaned. Driven with his own lust and his need to pleasure her, Severus moved faster. "Fuck me harder!" She screamed the plea, feeling the orgasm start to consume her. Severus slammed into her savagely, giving her everything he had. Hermione screamed as flames of pleasure licked her skin, hitting her like a flash fire and then burning her from the inside out. She screamed as her body constricted until it was almost painful for Severus, she screamed as she shook from the intensity of it all. She screamed as Severus gave into the tidal wave of his own orgasm and swelled inside of her, pouring himself into her and yelling out hoarsely. Finally, all her breath gone, her scream died out. She took deep, gasping breaths, gulping in air like a man drowning. Her arms shook so badly she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold herself up.

Severus pulled himself out of her gently and they both groaned in unison. As soon as he was out, she collapsed into a boneless heap on the bed. Her arms were splayed awkwardly under her but she couldn't move to adjust them. Her sweat slicked skin was kissed by the breeze floating through the room. She closed her eyes and let her thundering heart slow.

Severus collapsed next to her, spent and still reeling from pleasure. He'd never, ever had an orgasm like that. Everything was more intense with Hermione. But that...that had been more than intense. It had been...earth shattering. If one could die from pleasure, that would be the type of pleasure that killed. He didn't think he'd ever been so turned on in his life as when he was buried deep in her ass and she'd screamed for him to _fuck her harder_. His spent cock twitched just at the memory of it.

He took a fierce pride in the fact that he'd not only made her come, but made her beg him for it. In the end she'd been more than willing. If the pleasure she'd received had been even a fraction of what he had, then she had been thoroughly satisfied.

But she hadn't spoken to him yet.

She hadn't looked at him yet.

Now that the mindless need for release had passed, was she letting her anger build? Was she hating herself, and hating him for making her feel that way? Was she disgusted with him?

It had been his intention. It had been what he expected. He'd known he would enjoy it, and he'd known she would hate him for it. So why did he suddenly hope that she _wouldn't_ hate him for it? Why was a small part of him hoping that she hadn't spoken simply because the pleasure had stolen her voice?

He looked down at their bodies with a twinge of guilt. They were both perfectly clean, but he knew that some women felt dirty after that particular act. He wasn't sure if he could support his own weight, let alone hers as well, but he pulled her into his arms and stood. He did not look at her as he took them to the bathroom and into the shower. He let her slide slowly down his body until her feet met the floor. She was still leaning heavily on him when he turned on the faucet and hot water sprayed down on them.

She let her forehead drop forward until it was resting against his chest. Unsure what to do, Severus grabbed the shampoo off the hanging rack and started to work a lather into her hair. He was struck by the intimacy of the act. It seemed so personal, so affectionate. His fingers massaged her scalp and a low moan escaped her. When he finished and was letting the water rinse her hair, he felt her arms come up and slide around his waist.

He froze, shocked. She was...holding him. Unable to bear the uncertainty any more, he put one knuckle under her chin and tipped her face up to him. He braced himself for derision, for loathing, for fear even. Instead she seemed dreamily content. A soft smile curved her lips as she blinked up at him, eyelashes spiky with water. He simply stared at her, at a total loss for what to say. Her hands stroked down his back and traced the lines of his scars.

"How do you feel?" he finally said roughly. She furrowed her brow as she took stock of her body. After a moment she smiled that dreamy, satisfied smile again.

"Loose," she said softly, her voice slightly hoarse.

"Loose," he repeated, unsure what the fuck that meant.

"Boneless," she added. "Tired. Sated. Shocked."

"Shocked?"

"I didn't know it could be like that," she admitted. "I had absolutely no idea. Now I feel foolish for putting up any fight at all. I should have known. You were right, Sev. I need to trust you." She hugged him then. His arms came around her without conscience thought. His mind whirled as he tried to digest what she'd just said.

"You...enjoyed that, then?"

"Enjoyed?" She looked back up at him, surprised. "That was more than just enjoyment. That was beyond anything I've ever felt. It was like I'd only felt the tip of the iceberg with all my past experience with pleasure and then all of a sudden I got all the rest of it at once!"

"Oh." He didn't know what else to say. He was truly at a loss for words. His brain was whirling, trying to figure her reaction into the complex equation that was them.

"Oh? That's it? _Oh?_ You didn't enjoy it too?" She sounded surprised and slightly miffed. Severus gave her a look that clearly said his next words before he even spoke them.

"Don't be stupid," he scoffed. "Of course I did. I just assumed that you-" he paused and then started again. "I thought-" He stopped again and ran a hand through his wet hair. What the hell was he stammering on for like a confused kid? "God fucking damn it! I thought you would hate me for doing that to you!"

"Hate you? Why would I hate you?"

"Don't be obtuse, Hermione. I know you got pleasure from it but-" She quirked a brow and laughed.

"Got pleasure from it? Gee, what gave me away? Was it the five minute long screaming orgasm?" She batted her wet lashes up at him innocently. Severus grabbed her chin in his hand.

"Careful with that smart mouth of yours, pet." He spoke menacingly but there was amusement in his tone.

"I don't know...if this is what happens every time I piss you off, I might just have to do it more often."

"Once again, Hermione. You did not _piss me off._"

"Say what you will, but something I did got your knickers in a twist."

Severus stared at her. Got his knickers in a twist? Had she really just said that to him? He realized his mouth was open and conscientiously closed it.

"I was merely attempting to show you," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully, "That I am not a _good man_. You seem to be under a serious misimpression about me."

"Is that what all this was about? The whole day, you being cranky as a bear with a sore tooth was all because I told you that you were a good man last night?" She splayed her hand on his chest over his heart. Severus quirked a brow at her euphemism, but nodded.

"I suppose you could put it that way."

"And tonight...that has been your way of opening my eyes or something?"

"Showing you the type of man I really am, yes."

"And now I'm supposed to hate you, or think less of you?"

"Its what I had assumed."

"Severus Snape, when did you become an idiot?"

"I beg your pardon," there was a bite to his voice but she didn't back down.

"Thats right, you're being an idiot! A dolt! A nitwit! You're dominant and forceful and rough and you take what you want and don't put up with any bullshit. You're kinky as hell. But you've always made sure I was satisfied, you've promised never to hurt me and you've kept that promise. You made damn sure I knew that I could walk away- even though you knew that I wouldn't. Tonight you did something that I didn't want to do and I was afraid of. But you told me to take it or leave and I made my decision. And then you made it the most pleasurable thing I've ever experienced." She looked up at him as if she couldn't understand him at all. "How is that supposed to show me you aren't a good man?"

"I forced you to do something you didn't want to do," he bit out, unable or unwilling to believe what she was saying.

"Yeah, Sev, you did. You're forcing me to be open to new things. Things that if I wasn't in this position I would never try. But things that I love. You didn't frighten me or convince me that you're a bastard. You reinforced my trust in you more than anything else could have. I won't argue with you about sex stuff again. Ever. You want a pliant and willing sex toy, you've got it. If a day ever comes that you break your promise to me or we do something I can't like, then I'll reconsider. But for now, maybe truly for the first time, I'm yours. Wholly and completely."

Severus let out a slow breath. The splash of the water, the heat soaking into his skin, the ever so slight bite of her nails against him all told him that he wasn't dreaming. She'd really just said those things to him. He'd done something to her that she admittedly didn't want, and she trusted him _more_ because of it. She was still his. Willingly.

He wrapped one arm around her waist and drew her against him sharply. His other hand cradled the back of her head and drew her close as he lowered his head. Their lips met in an urgent, sensual tangle. It wasn't a kiss to shock her or punish her or even to arouse her. It was a kiss that conveyed all the emotion that he didn't know how to voice. When finally they both parted, drawing deep breaths, Severus let his forehead rest against hers. Their noses brushed together in an achingly tender gesture.

"Severus?" Hermione whispered his name softly.

"Yes?"

"Just don't expect me to be a mindless submissive puppet outside the bedroom, okay?"

Severus chuckled.

"With that smart mouth of yours, pet, how could I expect anything less?"

_**Well...what did you think, everyone?! Review and let me know! Bribe me for the next chapter! The next one is when we get a good look at his scars...and his past ; )**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Here it is! You are all awesome, just so you know. I love each and every review!**_

10

They finished quickly in the shower and Severus took them back to the bed. He covered them with the blanket but didn't complain when Hermione lay down facing him. They simply looked at each other for a long while. Hermione's hand came up and she gently traced the line of Severus' jaw. He scowled at her but didn't stop her. She let her fingers trail down his neck, over his broad shoulders and then trace along his chest and stomach. He tensed, but still didn't stop her.

Hermione's eyes followed the path her hand had taken. When her fingers met and traced the raised scars, she felt herself crumble a little inside. She glanced up at Severus' face. It was stoically blank. But she could see he was clenching his jaw.

"What happened?" she dared to ask. The blanket was drawn up to his waist, but she could see the scars deepened and multiplied under it. And she could never forget what she'd seen when she'd walked in on him in the shower. The image was burned into her brain.

"None of your damned business," he snarled. Hermione's hand paused, watching him carefully. There was anguish in his eyes, pain and shame. But there was no anger directed at her.

"You don't have to tell me," she murmured softly.

"No, I don't," he snapped. She ached for him. He was so proud, so powerful, what could have possibly done that to him? With a sigh she curled herself close to him and nuzzled her face against his chest. She felt him take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her hand moved under the blanket and splayed on his hip.

"I...I did not have a pleasant childhood," he finally admitted. Hermione stifled her gasp.

"Your _parents_?" The idea was so repugnant to her. She'd had loving, wonderful parents. Who could do such a thing to their own child?

"My father," he corrected. "My mother's only sin was marrying a sadistic man and then checking out of reality."

"Severus, I'm so-"

"Don't tell me you're sorry," he whispered fiercely. "I don't need your pity." Hermione bit her lips to keep the words from spilling out anyways. No, he wasn't a man who would accept pity. He rejected things like companionship and happiness. Why would he accept pity?

"I'm sure it happened when you were very young," she said softly.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because no one in their right mind would try to do something like that to you once you had your wand. From what I've heard, even in your first year you knew more curses and hexes than many seventh years." There was a twinge of pride in her voice.

"Oh yes. And I'd invented a few of my own as well. It came to an abrupt end the day I first managed sectumsempra. _Sever Forever._" He smirked and an evil glint came into his eyes. "That was end end of his penchant for young boys." He glanced down and she looked horrified. Instantly he rose to the defensive. "He deserved it," he snarled. "He was a sick, vile monster. If I'd have had the control over the spell that I do now, I'd have cut off his hands, too."

"Severus, I'm not denying that he deserved it. I'm glad you did it. I just hadn't realized that he..." she trailed off, pain pinching her voice tight. Severus realized his mistake. He'd as good as told her what else had been done to him. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes.

"Forget you ever learned that, Hermione. I am better than that."

"Better than that? Severus do you think I will see you as weak because your bastard of a father raped you?" She drew in a shaking breath. He'd winced at the word rape. "Do you think I could possibly think less of you because you survived what he did to you and went on to become one of the most powerful, most noble wizards in history? He tortured you, scared you and you still rose above it. You could have easily become just as twisted as he was, but you didn't. You are one of the best men I know. And I know more than a few good men," she smiled slightly. "You have _nothing_ to be ashamed of."

"I _am _twisted, Hermione. Don't ever forget that."

"You're kinky," she corrected.

"You haven't even seen all the things I like to do."

"No, I haven't. But you don't like sex with kids, you don't like rape, you don't like to torture your partners, and you've already told me that you're faithful when you're with someone. Everything else falls under the kinky category."

"So now you're an expert on sexual tastes?"

"No, but it doesn't take an expert to know that just because you..." She floundered and searched for a truly crazy sounding sex scene. "Just because you dress someone up, spank them three times and make them sing Yankee doodle dandy doesn't make you a monster." She blushed a little but held his gaze. Severus lifted a brow at her and tried to hide the slight smile that curved his lips.

"I'm unfamiliar with this, 'Yankee doodle dandy,' but the rest sounds quite appealing."

"Its a muggle song," Hermione mumbled. "A rather ridiculous one."

"Maybe tomorrow night I will find you something particularly sexy to put on, I'll take you over my knee, and you can sing me this song." He waggled his brows at her outrageously.

"Absolutely not!" She bit her lip when she realized she'd just told him not ten minutes ago that she'd never fight him on sex again, and already she was refusing something. But honestly, she couldn't bear the thought.

"You think I'll let you get away with talking to me that way, pet?" His voice was silky and deep. He rolled over and pinned her to the bed. His mouth descended on her, kissing her lips, her jaw, her neck, down to her breasts. He nibbled and sucked until she was crying out with the pleasure of it. He pressed one hand between her legs and palmed her. She arched up to his touch. Then suddenly, he stilled. She gasped in dismay. "Sing me a line from this song," he commanded softly, amusement etched on his face.

"No!" She thrashed beneath him when he stroked her so lightly that it added to the sensation but brought her no closer to relief.

"Do it, pet." He stilled again, making her moan with need.

"No!" She shook her head and tried to push her hips up to his hand. He leaned up and slid his tongue down her ear. She shivered and waited.

"Now," he commanded, and bit down on her earlobe. She gasped and melted beneath him. His hand started to move again, sensing her resolve crumbling. She took short little breaths as he continued to stimulate her.

"...feather in his hat and called it maccaroni!" She screamed and arched, letting her mumbled words stop abruptly. Severus waited, biting his cheeks, as she orgasmed. He was determined not to laugh as she was coming. When she finally relaxed and drew deep breaths, Severus looked at her seriously.

"This song seems to be about avian plumage decorating headgear named after pasta." Then he added in a very convincing tone, "I like it."

They laughed together, bodies pressed close enough that they could feel each other move as they laughed. It was funny and sweet and a more tender moment than Severus had ever shared with someone in his lifetime. Hermione threw her arms around him as they quieted. She pressed a quick kiss against his lips.

"I will never forgive you for making me do that, Severus Snape." She chuckled softly again. "Though next time you want another verse, I wouldn't complain about you doing that wonderful trick with your mouth and hands..." She winked at him and kissed him again.

"There is _more_ to this song?"

"Oh yes. In fact, the next stanza even mentions pudding..." She laughed at the expression on his face.

"Lets hear it then," he drawled.

"No you don't. I expect proper remuneration for that verse. And right now, it feels like you're the one who needs release..." She pushed her hips towards him where his erection was throbbing. He grabbed her waist to flip her over onto her stomach and she stopped him. "No. I think you deserve special treatment this time," she whispered as she licked her lips. He looked at her questioningly and she started to press kisses down his sternum. When she lowered to his stomach, Severus knew what she intended. He caught her shoulders to pull her up.

She paused, looking up at him. Her hand came up to cup his jaw and her thumb stroked his lips softly.

"I want to," she murmured. "Please." His resolve started to weaken. It wasn't that he didn't want what she was offering, but no one had ever been free to do that without being blindfolded and having their hands bound. He couldn't bear the thought of them looking at him down there, feeling him, seeing his dark secret. But Hermione had already seen it. She knew the dirty truth and she'd told him what she thought of it. Of him. Could he allow it- allow her- to do this? "Trust me," she said softly. With a low groan he let her go. He did trust her.

She kissed down his stomach and down to his hips. Her hand found him under the blanket and squeezed him lightly. Then she shifted the blanket away and moved her head lower, letting her mouth hover over his cock. It strained towards her of its own accord. Her nails raked lightly down his chest and stomach, bringing chills in their wake. Her tongue came out and ran up the length of him, slow and sensual. She grabbed him firmly at his base and licked over the tip of him. It was enough to make him nearly yelp. Then she lowered her mouth over him and started to suck. Her hand moved rhythmically with her lips, driving him higher and higher. With her free hand she stroked his hip and thighs. She wasn't tracing the lines of his scars, but simply touching him. It was strangely pleasurable for him. Maybe because no one had touched him there in years. Maybe because her light touch tantalized his senses. Or maybe because it was _her_, and only she could touch him like this and make it not only bearable, but pleasant.

Without stopping, she looked up at him from under her lashes. Her brown eyes met his as she moved on him. It was intimate and erotic and would have brought him to his knees if he'd been standing. Meeting her eyes as she pleasured him was more of a turn on than he ever would have imagined. Watching her take him deep, seeing desire spark in her eyes, knowing that she _saw_ him. The room was dark, but there was moonlight coming in from the window. It threw its pale beams across them, highlighting the shiny marks crisscrossing his groin. He was open and exposed to her, vulnerable in a way more intense than any other.

Her mouth tightened, taking him deeper until the tip of him sank into her throat. She swallowed and he felt the pleasure spike up through him. In a few minutes she had him close to coming. He gritted his teeth as his orgasm peaked. His hand came up and sank into her hair, not pushing her head down, just cradling her there. She gave him one last, long suck and then released him. He expected her to come back up to the top of the bed but she stayed where she was, her head resting on his thigh. Her hair felt like a thousand silk threats sliding on his skin. She turned her head and kissed a long scar that ran across his pelvis. He shivered at the light, tender touch. They stayed like that for immeasurable minutes. He stroked her hair and let her breath warm his skin and his heart. She dropped more soft kisses against his scars.

_**What'd you think? More to come...even more of him opening up to her! ; )**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Hey there all! Ready to hear some more about our beloved Sev's past? Here it is!**_

Chapter 11 - God Put a Smile Upon Your Face, Coldplay

"What is this one from?" she asked quietly as her fingers traced along the long scar she'd kissed earlier. He paused stroking her hair and then continued again.

"A lash. Because I'd snuck out to see the Evans girls." He said the words stoically, his voice emotionless. Hermione winced for him. Her fingers skated across his skin and landed on another scar.

"And this one?"

"Belt buckle. For complaining about not having clothes to wear that fit me." Her eyes met his and he could see that she wanted to say something, anything to make it better. But it was done. There was nothing to say. Her eyes returned to his groin and she very gently touched the burn scars that stretched up from his right thigh.

"This looks different than the rest."

"Its from fire. I'd accidentally broken a bottle of liquor, and he wanted something particularly nasty as punishment for wasting his precious liquor. He was a muggle but had a _special_ interest in fire. This," he traced the edge of a particularly rough patch, "happened because while he was..." He stopped and swallowed thickly. "When he'd turned me over, this part was on the ragged, shitty little blanket I had. And it stayed pressed there while he was..." He looked away from her and stared up at the ceiling. He didn't finish his sentence but she could imagine what had happened next. "Until he was done. When he left, I tried to pull the blanket up and I lost more skin when it came away."

Hermione didn't speak. She didn't trust her voice. Instead, she lifted her head and kissed the rough patch.

"They can't be healed magically?" she finally said. Severus shook his head.

"After a year, scars become nearly impossible to remove, even with magic."

"Surely the healer at the school when you went would have been able to at least get some of them?"

"I would never have let anyone see them, not even Poppy." When she lifted her brows, he laughed softly. "Yes, she was there when I was a student as well. But I learned very quickly. I was able to remove many of them myself. The ones that are left are the ones that no amount of magic will remove."

"How do you stand it?" she whispered brokenly. Severus stiffened, the intimate moment shattered. He yanked her back up and covered them with the blanket. His voice was biting when he spoke.

"I've had them most of my life, Hermione. I no longer find them repulsive. If they are so repugnant to you, do not look at them." He glared at her and she paled.

"That's not what I meant, Severus." She put her hand on his chest over his heart. "I just mean that it would be terrible to have to face a physical reminder of what had been done to you every time you look in a mirror." She turned her arm so the underside of her forearm showed. Very faintly the jagged word Mudblood could still be seen. "This is terrible for me to see, and it was over very quickly. I cannot imagine having to see scars of something so terrible every day." She seemed on the edge of tears, her empathy overwhelming her. Severus softened slightly and stroked her hair.

"I try not to think about them," he said roughly. "They happened long ago. They do not have the power to hurt me any more. I will not let _him_ have that power over me."

"You are so very strong, Severus." She touched his cheek lightly.

"Emotional strength is not a matter of choice. It comes because there is no other option. In the darkest moments of our lives we find we can handle things we never thought we could. Simply because we _have_ to. There is nothing extraordinary about it."

"You, Severus Snape, are an extraordinary man, whether you see it or not."

"Surviving is nothing to be amazed at. When you are powerless, survival is simply an instinct you cannot deny, even if you wish to."

"Did you wish that?" Hermione asked him softly. He stared up at the ceiling again and let out a long breath.

"At times," he admitted. "When things got especially bad. When everything seemed bleak and hopeless, I thought maybe it would be better to die and escape the pain. I thought sometimes that it would be pointless to continue living after what had been done to me. I would wonder what type of person I could become after everything I had been through." His eyes closed tightly. "At times I still think it would have been for the best."

"How can you say that?" Hermione was aghast. "You saved our world!"

"Potter did that."

"Harry would have been dead a dozen times over without you. We all would have been! You are the reason we survived, and you are the reason we are free! Without you we would have been enslaved to Voldermort at the very least!"

"I was merely a pawn, Hermione. Dumbledore was the mastermind."

"Dumbledore was a genius. He was an amazing man. But you were the key to everything he did. You were the lynchpin to his plan. You, and your capacity to love, are what saved us all." Her voice rang with her sincerity. Severus only scoffed dismissively.

"My great capacity for unrequited love. For the woman who married my worst enemy and then died because of my actions. Oh yes, my capacity for _love_ has done wonders. What rubbish. I carried out a twenty year vendetta to avenge the only woman who'd ever been nice to me. She was my entire world and to her I was nothing more than a strange boy she'd known as a child. If I'd been a normal adolescent I would have realized long before that what I felt for her was gratitude and blind devotion. I am not truly capable of love."

"Everyone is capable of love. No one can take that from you. No one can destroy it."

"Then maybe I was just born without a heart."

"That's not possible. I've seen your heart too many times to doubt its existence."

"Because coercing you to become my own personal fuck toy, making you a part of my twisted fantasies, and introducing you to a world of deviant sexual pleasures was sweet and loving." His voice dripped sarcasm.

"I happen to enjoy being your own personal fuck toy. And I enjoy all the deviant sexual pleasures you've shown me. I wouldn't call them _loving _acts, but they certainly aren't evidence that you don't have a heart."

"I believe there was once a muggle named Freud that would disagree with you." He arched a brow at her. Hermione looked surprised he'd mentioned the psychologist, but reminded herself that a man didn't get to be in Severus' position, with all his knowledge, without learning about brilliant muggle minds, too.

"I don't see any reason why he would," she said slowly. Severus barked in laughter.

"Hermione, I am one of those muggle psychologists' wet dreams! I was molested and degraded and abused as a child, and as an adult I take intense sexual satisfaction to dominating and roughly using my partners."

"Your consenting, adult partners."

"Semantics." He shrugged. Hermione sat up and looked at him sternly.

"When the Carrow's were at Hogwarts, and they were abusing the students, how did that make you feel?"

"Do not mention their names in front of me," he hissed. "Abusing children is the most abhorrent, cowardly thing you can do."

"How did it make you feel," she repeated.

"How do you think it made me feel?! I had to watch them repeatedly hurt children, and couldn't do anything to stop it without risking everything. I traded the innocence of the children under my care for the safety of children the world over. Its not a choice anyone should have to make." He ran his hand through his hair. "They feared me. I was used to being hated. And they feared my criticism or my detentions, but this was different. They looked at me with hollow eyes and expected the worst from me. It was the same way I used to look at..." He stopped abruptly, shaking his head. "This proves nothing."

"Why didn't you rape me when I first came to you?"

"What?"

"When I first came here, I was solely dependent on you for weeks. You had me totally at your mercy. You wanted me then, didn't you?" She paused and he finally gave a sharp nod. "Then why didn't you just take me?"

"You were half dead."

"Half dead but with killer legs," she smiled.

"I don't make it a habit to force myself on women who come to me for help." His voice was tight.

"Why?"

"What the fuck do you mean, why?"

"Why not? You're powerful enough, physically and magically, that you could force any woman you wanted."

"I told you already, I'm not a sadist. It doesn't excite me to truly hurt women."

"But forcing them to do what you want?"

"I like having control over them. Telling them what to do and making them enjoy that."

"But not _forcing_ them."

"Again, that's just semantics." He sighed and she shook her head at him.

"No, its not. There's a huge difference in a man who takes pleasure in raping women, in forcing them to do what he wants, and a man who takes pleasure in women submitting themselves to him. In controlling them." She rested her hand on his chest softly. "You can't stand to see a child abused, and you won't abide rape. You couldn't be more different from your father." She smirked. "Freud would agree with me."

"Fine, I am not a monster. But it doesn't make me any less twisted that I was used and abused as a child and now I take sexual pleasure from dominating others." His voice was rough. Hermione shrugged dismissively.

"Maybe you were born this way. Maybe because you were stripped of any control in your childhood, you enjoy having it over others now. Maybe you like to prove to yourself that you know where the line is between man and monster. Maybe dominance excites you because you spent so much time longing for it as a child. Just because you were shaped by your past doesn't mean that it has ruined you. I believe Freud would say that you are nature, not nurture."

Severus was silent for long moments while he thought about her words. Could she be right? Was it possible that he'd spent so much time hating himself for his tastes that he'd overlooked the possibility that there was nothing wrong with them?

"I think its time to get some sleep," he said finally. Hermione flashed him a little smirk, knowing her words had hit their mark.

"Sure, Sev." She settled herself down next to him and closed her eyes. When his arms came around her, she let out a contented sigh and snuggled deeper into his hold. Severus laid awake for a long time, looking down at the sleeping witch in his arms. Was she seeing what she wanted to see? Or could it be true?

Most of his life he'd tried to avoid sexual relationships because he hated what they brought out in him. He was an exacting, demanding, hard man and with sex he became even more so. He'd always gravitated towards pliant partners he could slake his lust on in any way he wanted. Ones he could force not to look at him, ones he would never have to see again- and so never face accusation or judgment from them. He'd taken Hermione because he wanted her. Because he couldn't deny himself any more. Because she'd forced herself into his life and he deserved something for that.

But in taking her he'd created the first opportunity for judgment. He'd expected her anger, her outrage. He'd been prepared for it. And it had never come. He'd taken her in ways she didn't want, and instead of accusations, she'd given him understanding. She'd soothed him and opened up the possibility that he had nothing to be ashamed of. It boggled his mind and confused him. She left him tied in knots. It wasn't a feeling he was used to. And he didn't like it. So why did he like _her_ so much? She brought out all this confusion and uncertainty in him. He should hate her for it. Instead he was softening towards her.

He fell asleep with his nose in her hair, inhaling her sweet scent, trying to make sense of her.

_**He's falling so hard and doesn't even realize it! What did you all think? Let me know! Review review review! ; )**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Ah folks, you truly rock, you know that? I got an amazing rush of fanfic review love and just had to post the next chapter for you! I love this chapter, and I hope you will too. Though be warned...they try out some bran 'spankin' new sex things ; )**_

Chapter 12 - The Hand that Feeds, Nine Inch Nails

In the morning, he woke before she did, and healed her arm. Then he watched as she turned, stretched, and blinked up at him. Her sweet smile made his chest feel tight. She rolled over onto her stomach and stretched again. Severus pulled the blanket off of her to fully appreciate the sight. _What the hell,_he thought. He leaned over, kissed her shoulder and then blanketed her body with his own. She looked over her shoulder at him and he kissed her temple. She murmured appreciatively when he parted her legs and thrust into her. He laced their fingers together again and moved slowly. She arched her back and nuzzled her cheek against his, whispering his name.

He wanted more of her, he wanted to be able to touch her everywhere. He considered flipping her over and taking her face to face. But though he'd come a long way in their short time together, he wasn't ready for that yet. Instead he wrapped his arms around her and rolled over onto his back without pulling out of her. They were both looking up at the ceiling, with Severus' legs bent at the knees and Hermione's legs hooked over his. With one hand he cupped her breasts, kneading them. With the other he slid down her belly to between her legs. His heels dug into the mattress as he thrust upwards, stroking her at the same time. Her arms came up over her head and threaded into his hair. She turned her head and kissed him hard, her moans of pleasure lost in the kiss.

They came together, breaking their kiss to gasp for breath. Once their thundering hearts had calmed, Hermione turned over so they were chest to chest. She looked at him for a long time, saying nothing. Then she kissed him, flashed him that cheeky grin of hers, and got out of bed. Severus followed behind her. When she went to the closet to find clothes, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against him, kissing her shoulder. She giggled and swatted him away. He growled against her skin, called her a wench, and then went to get his own clothes on.

He reached the kitchen before she did and set about making their tea. She was wearing a sunny little dress when she came in. He looked wolfishly over her bare feet and legs, then up to the barest hint of cleavage showing. He loved the way tight pants gripped her ass, but he loved the way she looked in dresses more. There was something so utterly soft and feminine about her in them. It called to him on a purely masculine level- not to mention showed off her shapely legs.

She started to pull a few things from the cupboards to make breakfast, but Severus caught her around the middle.

"Not this morning. Sit. Its my turn to make breakfast." He gave her a gentle shove towards the little table in the corner. She looked him over and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Who are you and what have you done with my Severus?" She sat down and crossed her arms.

"Before you came along I was more than capable of feeding myself. And since you've been cooking for me for several weeks now, its only fair that I reciprocate." He turned back to the cupboards, unable to forget the way she'd called him _her_ Severus. What the fuck was wrong with him? He wasn't some mooning teenager with his first crush! So why did he want to make a meal for her? Why did he want to take care of her, protect her, tell the whole world that she was his?

It was ridiculous, dangerous, and downright stupid. And yet he still made the damn breakfast.

Hermione didn't sit in her usual place when they ate. Instead of sitting at the opposite end of the long dining room table, she sat in the chair directly to his right. Their elbows brushed occasionally during the meal, and their knees bumped under the table. They shared intimate looks and spoke of light, meaningless things. Neither of them had patience for small talk, but they seemed to have silently reached a mutual decision to keep the conversation easy that morning.

Severus lingered over his food. It was past the time he usually started his research, but he found himself not wanting to leave the table- and her company. When he could put it off no longer, he rose and turned to leave for his study.

"Would I be too much in the way if I accompanied you today?" Her voice made him pause and he turned back to her. "I don't want to distract you or anything, but there are a few potions I've been meaning to replenish. If its not too much trouble," she added.

"Trouble, none at all. Distraction? Definitely." He pulled her to him and cupped her ass under the dress. "I think I can make due though." He gave her ass a firm smack that made her gasp in pleasure. When he turned, she followed him into the study.

They worked most of the day with no problems. At lunch he ate fruit off of her body and then bent her over his desk for a fast, rough fuck. Towards evening they both took the books they were reading into the living room. Severus made dinner when they got hungry. It was late when they went up to bed, but neither of them were particularly tired despite their long talk the night before.

"So what debauchery do you have in mind for tonight?" Hermione asked when they reached the bedroom.

"What if I don't have anything planned?" he asked, curious as to what she would say. She simply shrugged.

"I think you can improvise if that's the case."

"I can, but I won't have to tonight. There _is_ something I want to do tonight that should fulfill the debauchery requirement just fine." He backed her against the wall and kissed her. While their tongues tangled, he slowly unzipped her dress and let it fall from her shoulders and pool on the floor. He pinned her arms over her head and leaned down to whisper into her ear.

"You've been a very bad girl, pet." His words made her shiver in anticipation. "I'm going to have to punish you. And maybe, if you're a good little slut, I'll let you come." She moaned as his words sent a physical rush of pleasure through her. "Are you my good little slut, pet?"

"Yes," she moaned.

"Yes what?" he demanded harshly.

"Yes...sir?" She searched his eyes and felt a thrill of pride when she saw triumph light his face.

"That's right pet. Now...lets take care of a few things." With a flick of his wand, there was a blindfold over her eyes. Deprived of sight, all her other senses tingled with heightened awareness. He quickly stripped her of her bra and panties and then led her to the bed. She started to climb on it but he stopped her. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her across his lap. "I'm going to spank you now, pet. I want you to count them out for me. And when we are done you are going to thank me for punishing you." His hand caressed her ass and he could feel her getting wet already.

In one quick move he tied her hands together behind her back. Then he let his hand fall in the first smack. She gasped and squirmed. He paused, waiting. After a moment, she stopped twisting.

"One," she moaned. He spanked her again, and again. He moved his hand constantly so she never knew where the blow would come from, never making one area too sore. Her ass had turned bright pink and her skin was warm to the touch but she was nearly crying with pleasure. He would stop and stroke her between the legs occasionally, making sure she stayed aroused and on edge.

When she moaned a nearly incoherent _twenty_ he thrust two fingers inside of her and stroked her hard. She screamed and came violently on his fingers. While she was still clenching in aftershocks, he flipped her onto her back on the bed. He pushed her legs high and wide, her knees against her shoulders and then thrust himself inside of her. He pounded her relentlessly, fucking her hard and fast until he came inside of her.

It was the closest he'd ever come to face to face sex, even as quick as it had been. When he collapsed next to her he wondered if that meant anything about them. Could he someday be comfortable enough with her to have sex with her in the missionary position? It sounded slightly dull as far as his other sexual exploits went, but he knew that with her, it would be erotic because of its intimacy. He would be able to look her in her eyes as he took her, kiss her, really and thoroughly love her.

Love?

Did the idea of loving Hermione appeal to him? Sexually, absolutely. Emotionally? He wasn't sure. For most of his life now he'd been convinced he wasn't capable of true love. But with Hermione... If he really was capable of love, she would be the one he wanted to love.

She stirred against him and cleared her throat.

"Um...Sev?"

"Yes, pet?"

"Could you untie my hands?" She twisted so she was on her side and he realized her hands were still tied behind her back.

"Fuck! I'm sorry Hermione!" He undid her binds with a flick of his fingers and pulled off her blindfold as well. He'd accidentally left her hands tied, and he'd fucked her hard on her back. Her shoulders would be aching. He castigated himself for his negligence.

"Its all right. I didn't even really notice them until we were done." She chuckled. "You drive me to distraction."

He moved up until he could rest his back against the headboard and then pulled Hermione against his chest. Once she was comfortable he started rubbing her shoulders. She moaned in bliss and melted into his hands. He rubbed from her neck down to her hands and then leaned her forward and rubbed her back. When he was finished she was boneless and nearly asleep.

"I broke my promise tonight, Hermione. I am truly sorry." He whispered the words while pulling her close. Her eyes fluttered open and she furrowed her brow in confusion.

"What, did you change your mind about monogamy without telling me?"

"No, I hurt you."

"Well my ass is a little sore but I kinda like that." She smiled at him. "If you're talking about my arms, don't worry, Sev, honestly. I'm fine. I'm pretty flexible so they didn't give me much trouble."

"I know you're flexible. I can personally attest to that after tonight's fuck, but still, I shouldn't have forgotten about your hands."

"You're not god, Severus. You can't be perfect all the time."

"In here, you turn yourself over to me completely. I might as well be god. I can't expect you to trust me if I make mistakes. It won't happen again." He looked so serious that Hermione decided not to argue. She kissed his nose.

"Ok then. You're forgiven."

"Thank you," he murmured. He pulled her even closer and rested his chin the top of her head. As he fell asleep, he counted his lucky stars that Hermione had come to his door that night all those weeks ago.

_He was running, running as fast as he could. He was in a dark hallway that stretched endlessly. His father was behind him, and he was angry. So very angry. Severus' small legs burned as he tried to go faster, to get away. But he never could escape his father. He was bigger, stronger, and there was nothing Severus could do to stop it. He gasped for air as his lungs burned but he could still hear the thundering footsteps behind him. He ran faster, praying for a surge of speed- a hand caught him on the shoulder. He screamed, but the sound wouldn't come out. He looked up at the familiar face, twisted with rage. A face enough like his own that he could hate his own reflection as much as his fathers. Suddenly they weren't in the hall any more. They were in his bedroom. He was being dragged towards the bed. He screamed soundlessly again and struggled with everything he had. It didn't matter. There was nothing he could do it stop it. He felt himself pushed down on the bed on his stomach. He panicked as he realized he was naked, completely vulnerable. Warm skin pressed against him, burning him as cold dread iced his veins. He felt the hand press down on his back, forcing him to bend. Then there was the thrust, the pain, the anguish. He buried his face in the blanket and cried. Time had no meaning. He was pinned down for eternity, used, hurt- endlessly. Then suddenly he felt a change. It shocked him and made him open his eyes. He wasn't a child any longer. He was a man, bigger than his father, stronger. And now it was Severus who had someone pinned to the bed. He felt powerful, omniscient, orgasmically drunk with it. The small body under him was pale and still, except that the shoulders shook with sobs. The head turned- it was Hermione, tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked at him with that empty, hollow look he'd seen on the face of children once before. That look that haunted him. "You swore you's never hurt me," she whispered brokenly. The emotional agony that tore up through him split him from the nightmare. Suddenly he was observing, watching as the demonic version of himself raped her. It turned its cold eyes to him and then down to her. With an evil smile it took her harder, laughing when she screamed. Severus was trapped outside, unable to reach them, to help her, to save her from himself. He beat against the invisible barrier that kept him out and screamed her name. It went on and on. He could only scream her name in horror._

"Severus?" Hermione shook him sharply, concern etched on her features when he looked at her.

"Hermione!" He pulled her close and then put her at arms length to look her over. Aside from a few new marks on her arm, she was unharmed. She was safe. It had been a nightmare. Of course it had been. He pulled her tightly against his chest again. "Thank god," he whispered. Hermione pulled back slightly and looked up at him.

"You were calling my name," she said softly. Her hand rose to his face and she gently touched his cheek. Her fingers came back wet. Tears. She looked like she was aching for him. "Severus-"

"It was just a dream," he said, stroking her hair. "Nothing to worry about." They lay there in silence for a long time. Finally she spoke again.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm not sure that would do either of us any good."

"Was it about your father?"

"It started that way, but in the end, no. It wasn't." He stopped, unsure what else to say. Would she press him further? She didn't say anything else, but the silence felt heavy in the air. "It was me," he said finally. "Me, doing to you what he did to me."

"Oh Severus, how awful. I'm so sorry."

"Its nothing Hermione. Just lingering guilt about what happened earlier mixing with bad memories. I'm fine." His voice was rough with emotion that belied his words.

"Being afraid of turning into him doesn't make you weak, you know." She stroked his chest softly.

"What?" He spoke sharply, eyes finding hers in the darkness.

"Your dream. You're afraid you'll turn into your father. You're afraid you'll hurt me the way you were hurt. That fear doesn't mean that you're weak. Just the opposite, in fact. The easy thing to do would be to not worry about it. To decide that if you do then its not your fault. The hard thing is to fear it and strive to make sure it doesn't happen. You're very strong, Severus. Never forget that. Very strong and very brave." She laid her head over his heart. "I trust you."

Severus stroked her hair and tried to believe what she's said.

He just hope that one day that trust wouldn't get her hurt.

_**What did you all think? I couldn't help but ache for him in this chapter! Poor Sev, desperatley afraid he will hurt Hermione, fighting the knowledge that he loves her... And just wait, big events happen in the next chapter! Is a cure in sight for Hermione? Tune in next week to find out!**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Here it is! Exciting this are happening in this chapter, I hope you like it! Read away!**_

Chapter 13 - All We Are, OneRepublic

The next day and several more passed in quick succession. They shared breakfast together, then worked together if Hermione had things that needed done in the study with his supplies. If not she would take a book and read or work around the house. Severus continued to search for her cure. They would eat dinner together, read in their chairs in front of the fireplace, and then go to bed together. Sometimes he introduced her to something new, sometimes he reverted back to something they'd done before. He picked up on the things she especially liked and grew more to like them himself because she enjoyed them so much. Being spanked, tied up, sensory deprivation, dirty talk, and even mixing sex and food like fruit or whipping cream or wine were all things she loved. She submitted to him with eager anticipation and he dominated her with dark relish.

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months. They lived in a cozy bubble, away from the prying eyes of the world. Away from anything other than each other. Soon Severus forgot what life was like without Hermione. She was his reason for waking up each morning. He would have happily continued that way for the rest of his life.

Unfortunately, the book he'd been trying to get a copy of finally arrived. And with it came the information she'd been hoping for and he'd been dreading.

He had finally found her cure. The spell was beautiful in its simplicity. A few months ago he never would have thought he could preform it, but now he had no doubt. He could do it. And then she would be free. Free to leave him.

He'd let himself forget that she wasn't really his. Living in the moment had been wonderful, but it had blinded him to the reality. She would leave as soon as she was cured.

Some dark, miserable part of his brain whispered seductively for him to forget he'd ever seen the spell. To keep her with him forever. To tie her to him so unequivocally that she could never live without him. But he couldn't. He cared for her too much to lie to her. And he would not be her jailer.

That night, he made dinner for them. Feeling sick, he lit candles on the dining room table and cooked her favorite meal. When they sat down to eat, he held her hand. After dinner, they didn't go to the living room to read. Instead, he carried her up the stairs to their bedroom. Because it was _their_ bedroom now. But soon it wouldn't be. It would be his alone once more. His chest ached. He laid her down on the bed and took his time stripping her clothes from her. He lit more candles in the room with a flick of his wand and then took his own clothes off.

He laid down on top of her, keeping his weight on his forearms. He cradled her head in his hands and stroked his thumbs over her cheekbones, her delicately arched brows, her soft lips. Then he kissed her, deep and long. He poured all his emotion into the kiss. All the things he would never say to her. All his regret over loosing her. Without turning her, he parted her legs with his knees and settled his hips on hers. She looked up at him in surprise as his erection prodded her. They had still never had sex like this in all their time together. He had never been able to bring himself to do it. But now he was out of time. And he couldn't loose her without ever having experienced this with her.

Slowly, with their gazes locked, he pushed inside of her. He could see her every reaction as he filled her. When he was all the way in side of her, she moaned and her eyes became heavy lidded. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly as he started to move. He thrust slowly, wanting it never to end. Wanting her to be his for always. Wanting them to be together for always. Wanting to make love to her every night. Because, finally, they _were_ making love. She felt perfect, so right that he couldn't imagine his life without her.

Her nails scored his back as his pace increased fractionally. Her legs came up and locked around his waist as she urged him on. Her cries were soft and breathy in his ear. She was climbing closer to release, the rhythm of their hips making her body tighten and tighten until it would explode with pleasure. When she came, Severus kept going. He wasn't ready for it to be done. He kept thrusting into her, harder. Her orgasm stretched out and then she peaked again. She screamed and her head thrashed on the pillow. Still he kept going. She could hardly catch her breath as he drove her higher again.

"Look at me," he commanded. Her eyes were still squeezed shut as she braced for another orgasm. "Look at me," he said again more firmly. "Open your eyes." She did, staring up at him. "Come for me," he whispered. She forced herself to keep her eyes open as her body obeyed him. Seeing her like that, watching her watch him as he wrung her orgasm from her, drove a pleasure through him so acute that he was nearly blinded with it.

As he poured himself into her he never took his eyes off of her. He couldn't. He'd once thought he had no heart. Now he knew better. She _was_ his heart, lying vulnerable outside his chest. And after tomorrow she would be gone.

He rolled off of her but kept her close against him. They fell asleep that way. He woke up and took her that same way three more times in the night. After the last time they were both sore and exhausted and slept peacefully until after dawn.

The next morning they dressed in silence. Severus made their tea and Hermione prepared breakfast. They ate quietly, with her slanting glances at him every few minutes. Neither of them spoke. When they finished eating, Hermione set down her fork very purposely and turned to him.

"Whats going on, Severus?" she demanded. Severus raised a brow at her. "Don't give me that look. You know exactly what I mean. You've been wonderfully sweet, and I love that, but something is wrong. What is it?" He searched her face. Was it too much to dare hope that maybe, just maybe some small part of her would want to stay with him?

"I found the spell that will cure you," he said tightly. Hermione froze.

"You found..." she trailed off, at a loss for words. Her hand trembled as she traced the marks on her arm lightly. "You found the cure?" He nodded sharply. She looked at the tight expression on her face and hesitated. "But that's good, right? Can you preform it?"

"I can," he murmured. Joy lit her face. She threw her arms around him.

"Severus this is wonderful! I can finally be free of those nightmares, free of these marks!"

"Yes. You'll be free." He kept his voice soft so she wouldn't hear the pain in his words.

"When can we do it?"

"I'll need most of the day to prepare. We can attempt it after lunch."

She laughed in happiness and kissed him. Severus took over the kiss and pulled her against him sharply. He kissed her breathless, kissed her senseless. Kissed her until they were both moaning. Then he released her, got up, and went to his study without a word.

The morning flew by with miserable speed. Every moment brought him closer to loosing her. He double and triple checked everything he needed to do. He looked up the pronunciation again and again. When noon came, he could do nothing else to prepare. He was ready to cure her. But he wasn't ready to loose her. They ate quickly, Hermione edgy with excitement.

Should he ask her to stay? Tell her that he wanted her to be with him? Confess his feelings for her?

And have her laugh in his face?

No.

She deserved better anyways. She deserved more than him.

He pushed aside all foolish thoughts of a happy endings and they moved into the living room. Hermione stood in front of him expectantly. She grinned, fidgeted, and grinned again. When Severus drew out his wand she looked eagerly at him, but he laid it aside. He laced their fingers together with their left hands. With his right hand he touched the warm skin above her heart. He stared deeply into her eyes, and spoke.

"Hulius amore absolvo vos oderunt," he said roughly, his voice nearly breaking. _By my love, I free you of this hate._ Beautiful in its simplicity. It was a curse of hatred, the deepest, darkest hatred. And so it could only be broken by love. It was something from a children's story. It even ended with a kiss. Severus leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She was immobile for a moment, surprised. Then her arms came around him and she kissed him back.

Then he broke away. Hermione took a deep breath and searched his face.

"Is it..." she stopped, unable to ask the question. Severus felt her with his wand. Her magic was there, intact and strong. The insidious threads that had tainted it were gone.

"Its done," he whispered. She stared at him, hardly daring to believe it.

"Truly?"

"Yes."

She let out a whoop and threw herself into his arms. She hugged him tight and nearly cried with relief.

"I can't believe its gone. I can't believe I'm free!" Her joyful words hit Severus like an arrow through the heart. "Thank you," she said to him fervently. "Thank you so much, Severus. I can never repay you for what you've done."

"You already have. We had a deal, remember? You did everything I ever asked of you in bed and now I've cured you. Our bargain has come to an end." There was anger and resentment in his tone. He never should have gotten himself into it. He should have kept her at arms length where she couldn't entangle him emotionally. He should never have fallen in love with her.

"I suppose it has," she murmured softly. "Severus, I-"

"I don't see any reason to draw this out, Hermione. I am not a man prone to long sentimental goodbyes. I need some supplies for my potions. I will be in Diagon Alley obtaining them, so I will be out of your way while you pack your things." Was that a flicker of sadness in her eyes beneath the shock? Could there be part of her that would be sad to go? That would miss him?

"But I-"

"Leave an address I can send along anything I find later that you've forgotten." He turned to leave the room, then stopped. He kissed her one last time, swift and deep and hard. With a strangled groan he broke away and apperiated out of the house.

_**Now who could have seen that one coming? What did you all think of the cure for the curse? Did Severus react the way you thought he would? Don't worry, this isn't the end, though we are winding down towards it! Wanna know what happens next? Chapter 14 will come out on Tuesday...OR...review review review and you can bribe me into putting up another chapter tomorrow! ; )**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Wow, wow, wow! You are all amazing! Have I told you that lately? Thank you so much for- oh you don't want to listen to this right now! You want to read! Go ahead, read away. I'll ramble at the end ; )**_

Chapter 14 - If I Ever Leave this World Alive, Flogging Molly

Severus didn't return until late that night. He didn't want to risk coming back too soon and seeing her leave his home for good. It would be too much.

When he walked in, the house was dismally silent. With Hermione there it had always resounded with some soothing noise- her cooking in the kitchen, bustling through the library, laughing as she read... Now everything was quiet. She'd left the porch light on for him. It was a hollow gesture. No one was there waiting to welcome him home.

He realized that while Hermione had been living there, it hadn't been just the awful little house he'd been raised in. With her it truly had been a home. Now, as he stood in the living room and his eyes were drawn again and again to her chair, he realized that it would never be the same.

Should he leave Spinners End? He'd stayed for so many reasons. To prove to himself that he could. To force himself to face his demons every day. To remind him of why he could never cross that line and become like his father. But Hermione had made him question all his latent fears and resentments. She'd told him that there was nothing wrong with his sexual tastes. That he wasn't anything like his father. So maybe it was time to leave. To find some place he could make new memories. Or at the very least, escape the old ones.

Maybe he didn't deserve to relive them every night.

And with Hermione gone, that's all this place would be. An old film playing over and over so that you could never forget. Black and white phantoms flickering on the walls replaying his childhood over and over again. Maybe it was time to leave. He could never forgive his father, and he could never forgive his mother. But maybe it was time to forgive himself.

He climbed the stairs to his bedroom slowly. When he reached the door he realized his hand trembled as he reached for the door knob.

"Fuck!" He slammed his fist into the wall and shook his head in disgust. Then he threw open the door and went inside. The bed was neatly made, everything in its place. His eyes went to the dresser, hoping to see a slip of paper that would have her neat cursive on it. One last thing that she'd left for him. Just an address of where to reach her.

Deep in his heart he harbored the secret hope that she would have left a note. Saying that she loved him and wanted him to come and bring her back. It was a ridiculous, futile hope and he smothered it. The dresser was just as it had always been. There wasn't any note at all. Not even an address. She didn't even want him to know where she was living. He savagely swore that he'd burn anything he found of hers left in the house. She obviously didn't care if she got any of it back.

But he knew he wouldn't do it. He'd be unable to destroy anything of hers. He would probably cherish it like the pathetic imbecile he was.

Angry at her, at himself, at the whole damn world, he got quickly into bed and prayed for sleep to come. When he rolled over, he caught her scent in the pillow. His eyes pricked. He refused to allow the tears to come. He was a grown fucking man. He wasn't about to cry over a woman. He'd been through much worse than this. Unconsciously he brought her pillow closer. He closed his eyes stoically and told himself that he didn't care. But inside, he couldn't hide. Inside, he wept.

In the morning he woke slowly, his body naturally seeking out Hermione's soft heat pressed against him. Then he remembered. She was gone. She wouldn't be coming back. He rose stiffly and set about getting ready for his day. The house seemed colder. He unpressed a shiver and left the bedroom.

When he made his morning tea, he'd gotten down Hermione's mug without even realizing he'd done it. He looked down at the cup and felt the anger and pain rising in him again. He picked up the cup and cradled it in his hands. His long fingers traced over its edges. Suddenly he hurled it against the wall. It exploded, shattering into a hundred little pieces. She was _gone_.

"Should I take that to mean that I'm not getting any tea today?"

Severus froze. He turned slowly, trying to calm his wildly beating heart. It couldn't be. It wasn't... His eyes drank in the sight of her, still unable to believe.

"Hermione," he breathed. She flicked her wand at the broken porcelain and the pieces knit themselves back together. With another movement, the cup rose and flew across the room to settle beside Severus'.

"Because I had a really shitty night and I'd very much like some tea, if you don't mind."

"What..." he stopped, realizing he was gaping at her and mumbling like an idiot. "What are you doing here?" His voice sounded rough even to his own ears, but she didn't flinch. She just started making the tea.

"I don't know what on earth you mean. I live here."

"You left."

"Yes, after you so rudely kicked me out."

"Our deal was done. You were free."

"Well I've decided to change our deal. I'm a woman, after all, I'm allowed. I don't give a damn about how things like this are usually done. Since you're the dominant one in our relationship you're probably supposed to bring up things like this, but outside the bedroom we are equals and since you don't seem willing to do it, I will."

"Willing to do what?" He growled the words, unsure what to make of what she was saying to him. Was she telling him she wanted to stay? That she wanted to make another deal with him?

"What was the spell you used to break the curse, Severus?" Her soft words caught him off guard.

"What?"

"What was the basis for the spell? My Latin isn't flawless, but I think I got the gist of it. Explain to me how you were able to do that spell."

"You're cured. What does it matter how?"

"It matters because you hid something from me. Something huge. And now I'm asking you to admit to it. Be honest with me, Severus, even if you can't be honest with yourself." She took a step closer to him. "Tell me why that spell worked."

"Why are you doing this to me, Hermione?" His voice was broken. "What good could this possibly do?"

"I gave you everything, Severus! I gave you my body and I gave you my whole-hearted trust. Is it too much to ask that you finally trust me back the same way?" She touched the side of his face softly. "Why did the spell work."

"Because..." He stopped and took a deep breath. She was asking him to lay his soul at her feet. She could crush him so easily. He hadn't felt this vulnerable, this powerless, since his childhood. But this time, it was a bittersweet, willing slavery. His heart was hers already. "Because I love you," he admitted softly. He held his breath, waiting for the worst.

Hermione stayed still, as if she couldn't quite believe he'd actually said it even though she had known the truth already. But hearing it from him, having him say it out loud, was unlike anything she'd expected.

"I love you too," she whispered. Severus' eyes widened and he took in a sharp breath.

"You...you what?"

"I'm in love with you too, you idiot!" She laughed as tears filled her eyes. "And I wasn't going to get out of your life without at least making you admit that you love me out loud. If you don't want me here, if you don't want to be with me-" Severus cut her off with a deep kiss.

"For such a smart witch you can be incredibly stupid at times. How could I possibly not want you? You are my everything, Hermione."

"But yesterday..."

"I thought you were going to leave anyways, and I wasn't about to make a fool of myself by begging you to stay. Once you were free there was no reason for you to want to stay with me."

"Except for the whole being in love with you thing."

"Well hell, woman, I didn't know that!"

"And there was the amazing, mind blowing sex to consider, too."

"That I coerced you into."

"And of course the fact that we are perfect together."

"Hermione I'm nearly twenty years older than you, I'm twisted, snide and rude. I'm not perfect."

"I didn't say you were perfect. I said we are perfect together. Apparently my ideal man is an older, kinky, snarky and occasionally rude ex potions professor."

"You deserve so much more," Severus murmured as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I think I deserve to be happy. And you are what makes me happy."

"You are crazy."

"Maybe. But you love it."

"You're right. I do." He kissed her again. "So...you've decided to change our deal then?"

"Yes." She smirked at him.

"And do I get to know these changes?" He arched a brow imperiously but there was laughter in his tone.

"I don't know. You made me wait through one really shitty night before I got to hear you say that you loved me. Maybe I ought to make you wait till tomorrow before I tell you. A little role reversal...?" She narrowed her eyes mischievously.

"Oh pet, I am _not_ submissive. I don't think a role reversal would work. Maybe I should _make_ you tell me." He traced his fingers down her back and the cupped her ass and brought her close to his hips.

"Using sex to win is cheating," she complained halfheartedly, fingers sinking into his shoulders as she melted into him. "So I guess I'll just have to tell you my idea to prevent you from winning by cheating." She went up to her tip toes and kissed the corner of his mouth. "The new deal is that we won't have a deal."

Severus drew back, disappointment etched into his face.

"What do you mean?" he asked carefully.

"I mean no bargains, no exchanges. I want a relationship with you, Severus. A real relationship."

"And sex?"

"What about it?"

"You know the things I like, Hermione. Are you asking me to have a completely normal sexual relationship with you as well?" Could he do that? To keep Hermione, he would try, but how long would it be until he broke?

"Severus, we do have a completely normal sexual relationship. But I know what you mean. And I don't want anything to change at all sexually. I've never been more satisfied as when I let you have me. Maybe I'm naturally submissive in bed, or maybe you just do it so well that I can't help but love it with you, but I don't see any reason for our sex life to change."

"You don't mind me owning you completely in the bedroom?"

"No. I'll even sing you the rest of Yankee doodle dandy if that's what you want." She winked at him.

"You did mention a tantalizing bit about pudding..." He laughed and spun her around. "Tell me this isn't a dream, Hermione. Tell me you're really here, in love with me, wanting to share your life with me."

"Its not a dream, Severus. But if it is, lets never wake up." They kissed softly, then started for the stairs to take her up to bed.

_**Awwwwww! I love that line. In fact, I say it to my husband, often. 3 Anyways, as I was saying, thank you all so much for all the reviews on that last chatper! Of course, it was extremley rude of me to leave you all at a cliffhanger, but I hope you have forgiven me now! Only the epilog left, though there is a very small idea brewing that I will tell you more of after the next chapter. And because my wedding anniversary is this week and I will be out of town, I might even post the epilog tomorrow for you all. I'm feeling ever so generous after all the fanfic love and what with my anniversary coming up...**_

_**Review again, people, let me know what you thought of the chapter : )))**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Here it is, the last chapter, the epilog, the end! Its been a beautiful ride, but it had to come to a conclusion sometime. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have. Read away!**_

Epilog, chapter 15 - I'm All in For Life, Lifehouse (This is a little more campy than I usually do for music, but its just so fitting, especially the line, "I spent a week away from you last night," because I'm sure thats exactly how Sev felt. And no one could begrudge a NIN girl like me a little Lifehouse, right?!)

"Wait, my bag! Its got all my things in it."

"All the things you'd had here?"

"Um...no. All my things. Everything. I had a long night, and I decided pretty early on that I was coming back to make you accept me into your life forever, so I spent the rest of the time packing. Everything I own is in that bag."

Severus looked at the little purple bag dubiously.

"You must either have very little in the way of worldly possessions or you've enhanced a holding spell to monstrous proportions."

"Well its mostly books and I was able to put a shrinking spell on them. The furniture pushed the bounds of the spell, admittedly. But I managed. Will you help me unpack later?"

"No," Severus said after a pause.

"No?"

"I don't want you to unpack here."

"Sev, I thought we just-"

"I want you to unpack somewhere else. What I'm trying to say is that I want us to move."

"Move? But I kind of like this little place!" She ran her hand up the wooden banister with a smile.

"It is full of ghosts for me, Hermione. If I'm going to start a new life with you, I want to leave all of this behind. I want my past to stay in my past. You are my future."

"Are you sure?" she asked softly, searching his eyes.

"Yes. Tomorrow we can start looking for a new house. Or we can build a new one."

"With a huge library," Hermione added wistfully.

"And adjoining studies for us to work in."

"And a modern kitchen," she giggled.

"And a master bedroom with a big four poster bed." His eyes darkened and he started up the steps again.

"And extra bedrooms..." Hermione whispered the words so softly that he almost didn't hear them. "Maybe someday for..." Severus stopped dead at the top of the stairs. He looked down at Hermione, a flare of fear in his eyes.

"Hermione, I could never be a fit father."

"Because of your childhood?" She searched his eyes. He gave a sharp nod. "Severus, that's exactly why you would be a wonderful father."

"How can you-"

"Listen to me," she urged him. He fell silent and waited. "Later on, when the time comes, if you don't want to, we don't have to have children. But I want a family. I want to have kids someday. Little boys who look like you and little girls who are cursed with my hair." She grinned. "And if that happens, you will be the best father any child could possibly ask for. You will love them and protect them and give them all the things you never had." Severus thought about her words. He imagined her pregnant with their children. He imagined her carrying around a little girl that looked like her. Tucking a little boy into bed who had his black hair and dark eyes. The fear was still there, but something else was there too. Hope? If love could break the terrible curse that had afflicted Hermione, could love protect him from the cycle of his past? "Just think about it," Hermione urged him.

"For you, anything." He kissed her and then took her into the bedroom.

After they were both sated and exhausted, Severus held Hermione close and thought about all the things she'd said. After almost an hour of soul searching, he finally spoke again.

"I will make one last deal with you, pet."

"Oh?"

"When we are both ready, we can start a family," he said slowly. Hermione smiled up at him brilliantly. Then she faltered and her brows drew together.

"And the other part to this deal?"

"You must promise me that no matter what," he paused and spoke very seriously, "you will under no circumstances attempt to name any of our children after those idiots Potter and Weasley."

Hermione burst out laughing.

"And here I thought it was going to be some crazy request that I'd never be able to fulfill." She pushed up onto her elbows and smiled at him. "I will accept your deal and counter it with one of my own. I will never name any of our children after the boys, and I will also not ask you to ever go with me when I visit them. But you have to be friendly when they come over for holidays."

"Sweet Salizar woman, you fight dirty!" Hermione only shrugged at his outburst. "I cannot promise _friendly." _He growled. "How about...How about I simply promise not to hex them when they annoy me?"

"Not good enough. You need to at least agree to civility, or I think you should accompany me to a few trips to the Burrow."

Severus shuddered.

"Fine," he agreed. "I can manage civility. Does that mean that I can still hex them when they annoy me?"

"No!" She laughed. "Well...maybe you can get away with firing a few harmless ones at them if it gets too terribly bad." She bit her lip to try to stifle her smile. "I can already see Ronald trying to get up from the table and finding he's got jelly legs."

"I do believe I've been a bad influence on you, Hermione Granger."

"Maybe you just bring out the Slytherin in me."

"On no, its more than that. You've been thoroughly corrupted. I've turned you into a deviant."

"I think I like the kind of deviance you show me." She rolled close to him. "In fact..." Her hands slid down his body until she could grip him. He growled low in pleasure. "I think you need to corrupt me a little more before we get out of bed."

"Ah pet, I aim to please. If its corruption you want," he rolled her onto her back and pinned her to the bed. "Its corruption you'll get."

He kissed her thoroughly and then showed her exactly what he meant.

* * *

That night, as Hermione lay sleeping in his arms, Severus looked around the room that had been his for as long as he could remember. After they'd talked more about it, they had decided that they would build a new house. They would stay here until the new house was completed, but Severus knew that as soon as they started building, this house would never again be his home.

It was his past, it housed all the things that had made him the man he was today. And finally, he would be leaving it behind. He pulled Hermione closer and kissed the top of her head. She murmured softly in her sleep. She really was his future. His everything.

Together they would make their lives whatever they wanted them to be. They would be happy together. And some day, they would give their children the life he never had.

For the first time, the future was stretched out before him and it looked beautiful. He'd gotten everything he never knew he'd always wanted. And she was lying in his arms.

"I love you," he whispered to her. She smiled in her sleep and nuzzled his chest. Severus closed his eyes and fell asleep. He did not dream of the past. He dreamed of the future. And he woke in the morning with a smile curving his lips.

_****Sigh**...I can hardly believe its over. I have loved this story from the very beginning for a few reasons. I have always had a thing for older men, so I absolutley love the SSHG pairing, but also because this story is very personal to me. I put alot of myself into this one, and it has been both cathartic and enlightening to write this story. I feel like the way Hermione sees Severus has taught me a few things about myself, as crazy as that seems. But other writers will know, sometimes the characters take on a life of their own and they lead you places you never thought they could go. Thats what happened with this one for me. Thank you, all of you, for sharing this journey with me. Thank you for all the encouragment, the reviews, the pleas for chapter updates. They were each and every one special to me. Except maybe the review that said, 'you smell funny,' that one just confused me ; )**_

_**Well I'm off to teach my last yoga class before our trip and then I'll be gone for a whole week! But I have to leave this one thought behind. Someone suggested the idea to me, of what it would be like to hear some of what happened in the house from Hermione's point of view. What do you all think? Do you want a few bits written from her POV?**_


	16. Hermione 1

_**I'm baaaaaack! It took me longer than I expected it to, but I finally got back into my writing and put down a bit of Hermione's POV. I even did it in first person. Usually I'm very very particular about making the characters stay 'in character' but with this Hermione I took some creative liberties. I can't imagine the real Hermione telling anyone to "suck it," but it seemed to fit this version of her. I hope you enjoy it!**_

**Hermione:**

I'll just bet everyone wants to know how I ended up with Professor Severus Snape. Hell, you should have seen the look on Ron's face when he found out! I can only imagine how anyone else who knows Sev reacted to the news that Hermione Granger, the know it all friend of Ron and Harry had shacked up with Snape, the snarky ex potions professor. Let me tell you, it wasn't an easy road, but its one I'd take again any day of the week. And not just for the mind blowing orgasms, either! The bulk of the story is, as they say, history. But I want to tell you my side. The story from my point of view. A few select bits of it anyways. Of course I can't tell you every bit of it from my side, because lets face it...it would be too much to tell. Do you have any idea what all goes on in a woman's mind? Especially in a situation like that? And while Sev may have instilled a little voyeuristic tendencies in me, there are a few things I just refuse to share from my point of view! Knowing about my sex life is one thing...experiencing it through my eyes is another altogether! Stop living vicariously through me and go have your own kinky sex! Well, you won't have the imposing, dominant, unbelievably hot sex god to give you said sex, so maybe I'll be generous and share a few tidbits with you. Aren't I generous?

Of course, it didn't start out with me panting over my tall dark and kinky sex god. It started with me fainting in his arms. But that was a particularly low point for me so we are just going to skip right past that. And yes, I can. Because this is my story. Suck it.

When I woke up, I looked around and realized I was in the lair of the beast. Only Severus Snape could have such a dismally depressing bedroom. It was a tribute to Slytherins everywhere. Stark, bare walls, dark bed curtains, a few dangerous looking trinkets on the bureau... But I barely had a chance to notice those things before I saw the door handle turn. Almost unintentionally, I put my glamour into place. I'd honed and perfected it in the year since the war ended. As the months dragged on, as the curse raged inside of me, I looked more and more bedraggled. It had chaffed to have Harry and Ron look at me each day with more and more concern.

I mean, can you imagine having your ex look at you with deepening pity every day? Don't get me wrong, Ron and I weren't your average exes, but even still, I am only human. Know how you want to at least look good when you run into an ex on the street, if for no other reason than the tiny bitch inside of you needs them to know that you've survived just fine thank you very much? Well imagine that ex seeing you look on the verge of death every day for months. Humiliating!

And poor Harry, bless his heart, was just going mad trying to figure out what to do. His courage knows no bounds, but there were no monsters to face with this curse. No three headed dogs to fight, no dementors to run off, not even an evil ministry of magic worker to throw to the centaurs! He's so brilliant, but even his experience and knowledge of dark magic couldn't help this. So instead of letting them see how much worse and worse my condition got, I used what little magic I could spare to hide the physical affects.

And Sev knew what it was right away. The first thing he said when he barged into the room was, "take off your glamor, girl. It is stupid to waste your magic on something so trivial as how you look." Which at the time I was too exhausted to care whether he meant that as an insult to my looks or my intelligence or both. All I could do was stare at him. Before you judge, I'd just like to point out that I'd spent a _year_ living with hideously tormenting nightmares and magical draining. I didn't have the resolve yet to stand up to him. Don't worry. That came later. I was a bit of a lamb for a while whilst still recovering, but I wasn't down for the count.

I dropped the glamour. He was right. It was a waste. And when his next sentence was to inform me that while my glamour was useful for hiding my condition from my friends, he wasn't my friend so there was no need to use it in the future. Comforting, right? Ha. But I honed in on the one bright point in his sunny little tirade.

"The future? Does that mean that you'll help me?"

"I thought that would be obvious as I did not leave you on the street last night. Apparently I over estimated your powers of deduction."

Yeah, I know he was a bit of an ass hat. But you've gotta remember that he'd spent twenty years honing his schtick as a little shit, so it was mostly second nature for the poor guy.

"I guess that this isn't going to be a friendly interaction, then," I said and raised my chin at him. It was the most impudence I could offer at the time.

"No, Miss Granger, there will be nothing _friendly _about this. I will do what I can for you, and then you will go on your way without ever speaking of this to anyone. And if you cannot refrain from being the bossy, annoying, insolent little chit I know you to be, I will toss you out without a second thought."

"You wouldn't," I used all of my remaining energy to glare daggers at him. I'd come to him because I had no other choice. Did he think this was going to be a vacation for me? That it had been either here or the Bahamas and I'd said, what the hell, I'll go crash with Snape? I knew what he thought of me. He'd told me many times over the years on school that he thought me to be a know it all and annoying. It hadn't helped my case that I was a Gryffindor and Harry Potter's best friend, but I think even if I'd been in Slytherin and Draco had been my best mate he still would have disliked me. And in his defense...I was a bit of a know it all for a few years there.

"Oh, yes, I would. You have no idea who I am, Hermione Granger. You've come to me seeking my help, invaded my privacy, imposed yourself on my hospitality. I am not a tolerant man. Were it not for..." He stopped and I wondered what he'd been about to say. Was it that if there had been any other word on my arm but _mudblood_ he'd have tossed me out? I knew he had a special hatred of that word. I knew it couldn't hurt my case at the very least. "You are lucky that I did not simply turn you out at once. Do not count on my generosity holding out any more than that. Be grateful that I am willing to do what I can to help you and do not push me."

I stared at him for a moment. He was right, I was lucky he had even taken me in. Back then he was hell on wheels. And I was nothing but the track under his tires. A thousand things ran through my head in that one moment. I should storm out. Announce that I didn't have to put up with this shit and hex him on my way through the door. Break down crying and beg him to fix me, to make it all better. Faint again. I was weak enough that I probably could have done it on que. But I didn't have the strength to storm out, let alone cast a hex at him. I coudn't stomach the thought of begging him. And fainting purposely is for sissies. I have been many things, but a sissy has never been one of them.

"Fine," I finally said. He blinked for a moment and then curled his lip up in a world class sneer.

"What was that?" he demanded.

"I said fine, I will keep out of your way and do whatever you ask," I said. I'm not ashamed to admit that despite my firm no crying stance, there were tears in my eyes. But cut me some slack, a year of torturous nightmares, remember? I think that little sign of vulnerability got to him though. Because he hardly said another word before storming out. And with other people storming out might mean something else, but with Sev, storming out means he's more affected than he wants to admit. Either that or you've just annoyed the hell out of him and for one reason or another he's not allowed to hex you. Harry and Ron have gotten the storm out more times than I can count. Of course, he's not above tossing _little_ hex at them as he goes. But that's neither here nor there.

See what I mean about my story taking forever? That's just one sixty second encounter! I could tell you about the indignity I faced at having him force me to eat. Watching over my shoulder like either a bat or a mother hen (though I think at the time he was more akin to the bat) while I struggled to get down the food. I could tell you about being humiliated when he learned I was having to use a regular kettle instead of magic to make tea because the curse had sapped all of my magic. Or about having him utter those oh-so-foreshadowing words "I could make you do anything I wanted."

Instead, I'll skip ahead. I found one of his t shirts in the bureau when I went to bed and slipped it on. It smelled of crushed herbs and dark spice. It smelled of him. Not snarky I-will-crush-your-soul-before-breakfast Snape, but earthy, human, manly Sev. It think that might have been the first time I separated the two of them in my head. The professor was so larger than life, so unreachable. But Sev was just a man. A very manly man, I might add. But thats beside the point. Lets skip ahead to my first real defeat and my first real victory. Which both came from the same battle, curiously enough.

That morning, I'd heard Sev moaning in his sleep. He sounded...tortured. Of course now I know what his nightmares were about. But at the time I was confused more than worried. What could Severus Snape possibly have to fear in his dreams? I was an idiot for wondering that, but thats beside the point. He was his usual twit self about it when I mentioned it to him. I tried very hard that day to be the perfect little house guest. I made him a mid morning snack, brought him lunch in his study at noon, and even made dinner. I napped in the down time. I needed all the extra sleep I could get. Exhaustion weighed me down like a balloon filled with bricks instead of helium. I was still nearly catatonic under the weight of the curse. Which is partly why I was so proud of myself for standing up to him when I went to bed that night.

I was headed up the stairs and realized he was coming up as well. No one can fault me for being a bit...concerned that I was going up to the room too. I mean, who wouldn't be worried when a tall scarey man who basically holds your life in his hands is stalking up to where you plan to sleep? So I asked what he was doing. In a nice sort of way. I didn't just demand, 'hey you what are you doing!?'

"I had intended to go up to my room, Miss Granger, that is if it's ok with you," he sneered. It was the mocking tone that did it for me. I could take snide and snarky, but the mocking just went through me like a poison dart.

"Stop it," I said tightly. I think even I was a bit surprised at the steel in my tone. He certainly looked taken aback. But he recovered quickly.

"Excuse me?" He whispered.

"Just stop it! I know this is hard for you. And I appreciate what you are doing for me. You are literally saving my life. But just stop it! You don't have to be snide and cruel all the time." My chest started to heave and my breath came in shaking gasps. I was just getting started, and I could see he was prepared to throw some more bullshit my way.

"This is my home, Miss Granger. Do I need remind you of that? I can act however I damn well please in my own home. If you don't like it you are more than welcome to leave."

"I know this is your house! But can't you just be civil to me? Can't you see this is hard enough on me already? Can you even imagine being forced to live with practically no magic at all? To be totally at someone else's mercy? Particularly someone who seems to hate your very existence?"

"Oh, I have been totally at someone elses mercy before. And I have had to make due with no magic."

"Then why can't you show just a little empathy and be decent to me? That's all I ask. I'm not expecting courtesy, I'm not expecting friendship. Just common decency. Treat me like a human being." I wanted to slap him then. To shake some normal human emotion into the man. Of course I didn't have the strength for that, but it was a tantalizing thought.

"We can't always get what we want. All we can do is make due with what we are given. And be grateful for it." He was looming over me, looking impossibly strong and imposing. I took one shuddering breath and then the first sob caught me off guard and brought down my defenses before I could even get them all up. The next thing I knew I was sobbing in front of him, feeling utterly foolish and terribly hopeless and still so mad at him I wanted to spit. Preferably at him. On him. His shoes. Or maybe his forehead. Yeah, his forehead. That totally would have made me feel better in that moment. Alas I did not regain my dignity by hocking a loogie at his face. Not even at his shoes. He yelled at me to stop my nonsense.

The poor guy didn't have the first clue as to how to deal with me. I'm sure he'd seen crying women before in his life, but either he'd always been a sap for a girl in tears or I just got to him on a level neither of us expected. Because right on the heels of my humiliating defeat came the victory I'd needed so desperately and not even realized it. He talked to me. He explained what he was doing. Severus Snape, the man who explained himself to no one, especially not in his own home!- explained himself to me. In his snarly, haughty way, but even still. I wasn't about to complain. Score one for the Hermster.

By the way, don't you dare mention that Hermster thing to anyone. I made the mistake of saying the name out loud in front of someone once, and they decided it would be funny to start calling me Hamster Hermster. They spent the rest of the year as a hamster. So unless you fancy becoming a rodent for the next year, just pretend you don't know anything about that. Hermster, whats a Hermster? _Right?!_

Anyhow, the next morning I swear I woke up with his hand on my inner thigh, but I can't be sure it wasn't just a strange hallucination or dream. Of course I've asked him about it since and he refuses to either confirm or deny it. Either way, he was his usual ray of sunshine self that morning and I made breakfast.

It seemed as if we settled into a curious kind of peace after that morning. It wasn't DisneyLand, but it wasn't exactly hell, either. I found out later that he was staying up late into the night, exhausting himself by holding my nightmares at bay so I could get at least a little decent sleep. It had been so long since I'd gotten true sleep for any length of time that I had almost forgotten what it felt like to be strong. To be healthy. To have my magic back. I felt like my old self finally. It was such a huge weight off my shoulders. Unless you have ever been truly helpless, truly hopeless, fully dependent on another, you can never know that desperation. And so you can never experience the enormity of the joy at being able to do things for yourself finally. Just when I was ready to decide that even if things didn't get any better I could at least learn to live with this, Sev found step one of my cure.

I had hoped, in my secret heart of hearts, that he would be able to simply 'POOF,' and cure me. I'm a witch, so I know that things are never that simple, but I had convinced myself that if anyone had the POOFing powers, it was Sev. I still think that, and I'v seen him POOF a few thigns, but unfortunately this wasn't one of them. Even still, I was over the moon when he hold me he'd figured out a way to partially block the curse.

Even naked in his bed that night as he healed my scars, I was too happy to be utterly mortified at having him see me nude. It wasn't comfortable or anything, but the end was in sight, and that meant that I could do anything, deal with anything, naked or clothed. If he'd wanted me to put on a fruit hat and done the Merengue for him I would have. I was just happy to have hope finally. Real hope.

That night I got my first truly lustful thought about my ex potions professor. Of course I'd had my little fantasies while still in school, nothing more than girlish dreams at the time, but this was something different. That night in his bedroom, he wasn't the strong, distant potions master who could glare her into instant orgasm. He was a tall, brooding man with broad shoulders and a flat stomach. He smelled of that spicy masculine scent. Seeing him in his pajamas was entirely too erotic. I'll admit. I stared. I might have drooled a little.

When he caught me in the act, I passed it off with a joke. But I will never forget that first earth shattering moment when he stopped being my ex professor and started being the man I was intensely attracted to. Now before you start going on about Stockholm syndrome, let me explain that Sev really is a very handsome man. Not in a classical way, no, but in an arresting way. He has a face you will never forget. And while I don't think I'm the type to just to for the bad boy, Sev always did have that smoldering thing down pat. Yummy. I'm pretty sure I was so spellbound that I even said he should have been in Gryffindor.

Not that I wouldn't have thought that even if I hadn't been so enraptured with his brooding masculine wiles, but I wouldn't have said it to him at least. He seemed most offended by the remark. Being in Gryffindor myself I saw it as the compliment it was. He saw it as the lowest insult you could give someone. To this day I stand by that idea though. He always had the courage for Gryffindor.

I'm going to skip ahead again. More time passed. Severus healed the ugly marks on my body. We kept on with our companionable routine. And then things had to go and change because I saw him naked. Which I still hold wasn't my fault at all. I mean, you should have heard the noises coming from the shower. They were practically inhuman. It was my civic duty to make sure he wans't mutating into some strange killer slug or something.

Occasionally I wonder what would have happened if I'd never gone after him that night. Or if he didn't sound like a rabid raccoon in heat while doing the five finger wombat dance. Either way things would have been vastly different. I might never have gotten to know Dominant Severus. Hell, I might have never gotten to know Submissive Hermione! Which would have been a true loss to all of humanity, let me tell you. But I did go into the bathroom after him. I did see him naked.

Its a long chunk of the story though, and the twins need a bath and their brother will want a story before bed, and then I have a collar and a scandalous outfit waiting for me once the kids are alseep. Not to mention the horny sex god just waiting to make me his willing chew toy for the night. So you'll just have to wait to hear about me catching my first glimpse of Sev _a flagrante delicto_.

**_soooooo, hopefully you liked it and didn't mind my sassy Hermione. Keep in mind, that she is writing this much later, so maybe she developed some extra sass after all those years married to Severus! You'd have to have quite a bit of spunk to keep up with the Snape children ; )_**

**_Also, I am marking this story complete even though I will continue to add a little more of the Hermione POV, simply because the story itself is actually finished and this is just a bit of fun I'm playing around with. Don't forget how much I love reading all your reviews! Happy reading!_**


	17. Hermione 2

_**Hello again everyone! I was planning on putting this up last night but for some reason I couldn't get the FF browser to work right. And also, on that note, if anyone tried to review and it wouldn't let them...it would make my day if you would go back and try it again. You know how excited you get when a new chapter of a story you reall like comes out? Thats how excited I get when I see I have a new review! So pretty please with sugar on top let me know what you think!**_

Ok, so, here we go again! On with the story. I'm sure you were all dying to know what happened after I saw my future husband naked for the first time. Were you imagining a hot sex scene? That I jumped into the shower with him, overwhelmed by lust, and we had steamy sex for hours?

Not that we haven't done that mind you...but that was far from what happened that day. The truth is much more tragic. I can joke about my own experiences those first weeks. Make light of Sev's ass-hatterey. Even laugh at my own weak moments. But there was nothing funny about that first glimpse of him.

I probably should have turned around when I went into the bathroom and saw steam coming from the shower. But he'd just abruptly walked out on me, and I honestly had no idea that the sounds he was making were...well...pleasure sounds. Don't get me wrong, he makes some sexy lust noises, but it never even crossed my mind that my potions professor was wanking it in the shower, so I just pulled the curtain back.

And I will never forget that first look. I don't know what I'd expected, but this wasn't it. I was shocked before my brain even had time to discern what I was shocked about. In my head I stood there staring at him curiously like a kid at the zoo, even though I know it wasn't more than a split second. While he stood there, cock in hand, frozen in horror, my eyes traveled down. I realized what he was doing only a hair's breadth before I realized what I was seeing on him. And suddenly the fact that he was waxing his dangley bits wasn't the strangest part of the scene. It was the terrible scars on him. I cannot adequately describe them to you, nor would Sev want me to. Have you ever seen a map that shows the topographical features of a chunk of land? Where it shows all the hills and valleys, the slashes where rivers have cut through rock? Imagine a land ravaged by war and natural disaster. Then imagine what the topographical view of that land would look like. That's barely a glimpse of what I saw. It was as if someone had carved his entire pelvic region into some macabre abstract surface. That is the best way I can describe it, and that's the most description you're going to get. It was ghastly to see that first time. Horrifying to even contemplate what could cause such damage.

Then something he'd said came back to me with the force of a train slamming into a mountain. "_Oh, I have been totally at someone elses mercy before. And I have had to make due with no magic." _Thats what he'd said to me. Was this what he meant? I'm only human. Even though I knew he would hate it, I couldn't stop the pity that came into my eyes. A man like Sev sneers at pity and takes it as a deep insult. But how could any person capable of compassion see something like that and _not_ feel pity?

Then he snapped. He screamed at me to get out. Ever seen the muggle movie Beauty and the Beast? The cartoon one with the silly talking furniture? Well if you haven't, you really should, its a good one. Anyway, there's a part in that where the Beast throws the girl out of his room. He yells at her to get out. Roars it. Thats what this was like. It sounded like the walls would quake at the tenor of his voice. Any living thing with a single brain cell fled the vicinity. It was years of pent up rage and hatred coming out in one heart-stopping roar.

As you may know, I'm not an idiot. I ran. Courage wasn't even a question. You don't stand up to the devil when he comes for your soul. You run like hell. There are some fights you just can't win, and its idiotic to try. This was one of them. I ran downstairs and paced the living room. Then I sat down on my chair. I jumped up. Paced again. Sat again. When would he come down? What would he say? What the fuck had happened to him?

I'd just sat down on the edge of the couch when he came down. I jumped back up again like a spooked doe.

Let me take a moment here to say that even with the circus act going on in my head, the elephants chasing the clowns, the gorillas riding the tigers, the ringmaster being shot from the cannon into the pile of peanuts that had caught fire in the riot, I still couldn't help but notice just how goddamn good he looked right then. He came down in jeans and a t shirt. His feet were bare, the soft material of his shirt stretched taut over massive shoulders, his hair still dripping wet. It was...ridiculously erotic. I told you I'd already gotten my first glimpses of him as a man, as a sex symbol. This was just icing on the cake. I'm not into foot fetishes or anything, but it just added to his allure that he was barefoot that night. It made the whole sex god vibe he had going all the more tempting because it made him...real. It added an earthy quality to his sex appeal. And he had conjured the shirt without drying off first, so the material clung to his skin, leaving no muscle or bone to the imagination. It was like a black sculpture. His chest and torso unyielding as marble, clearly defined. And his hair still slick with water, hanging down just to his shoulders, one hank falling over one eye as he stormed towards me...

It was like he'd just stepped from the pages of some sinful romance novel and was here to ravish me until the end of time. I wanted to pant at him. Which of course, confused the hell out of me because my brain was still focused on shock and pity and apparently my libido didn't get the message that we were supposed to be worried about other things than just how edible he looked at the moment.

Anyways, once I got a reign on my rampant libido, I tried to speak. To apologize, to explain, to question...anything. But I barely got a word in before he was trying to throw me out again. The argument was a nasty one. One of the worst we've ever had. I believe when I told him that there was no one else I could turn to for a cure, his reply was, "too fucking bad." Peachy, huh? And I understood where he was coming from, even though he was being a jack ass about it. He hadn't cured me, but he'd made the curse nonlethal. Technically I could have left that day and gone on to live a fairly normal life.

But I didn't want fairly normal. I didn't want to deal with that nightmare for the rest of my life. I didn't want that awful word on my body every morning. I'd have done just about anything for my cure. And when Sev made his comment about putting my 'smart mouth' to use...I had a cold moment where I debated just exactly what I was willing to do for the chance at a cure. I knew there was no certainty that he could even find a cure. But I knew that he was my best shot. After I got over the initial shock, I asked myself the question that would change my life. Was I really willing to sleep with him to get my cure?

Hell yes!

Didn't you just read my description of him? He's hot! It wasn't like I would be sleeping with a trained monkey! I knew that he hadn't meant it that way. He'd been trying to scare me off. To shock me into leaving. But the fact that he'd made that comment meant that he was attracted to me. That the idea of putting my mouth to use appealed to him. He didn't need to know that it wouldn't be a punishment for me to jump into his bed. Well he did, but I didn't know that till the next night.

And then he kissed me. Our first kiss, and it was more of a punishment than anything else. But looking back, I wouldn't have had it any other way. He crushed his mouth to mine, his big hard body pressed against me, his tongue sliding against mine. I wanted to moan, to melt into him. I'd never dreamed that I'd kiss this man one day. Even in all my girlish fantasies I'd never considered the actual possibility of making out with _Snape._ But Holy Hogwarts it was fantastic. He was dominant and fierce and rough and parts of me that I didn't know existed were coming to life. The submissive in me was getting her first taste of true arousal and I was practically giddy with it. When he broke away, instead of trying to grab him back and kiss him more, I just stared at him. I was honestly shocked at myself.

Right then I was thinking about finally being the strong one. About not telling him that I went weak at the knees at the sight of him. Of making an arrangement that would suit both of our needs. I had the feeling that if I told him that I _wanted_ to sleep with him he would have tossed me out. So I told him that I accepted his terms.

You should have seen the look on his face. It was priceless. I could see the wheels turning in his head. There was no way for me to know exactly what all went on in there- the internal struggle he was facing at that moment. If I'd known...I might have never suggested it. Or maybe just not the way I did. But I had no way of knowing at the time that he was weighing out whether accepting my offer made him a monster or not. Then again, I had no idea what his sexual tastes were, either. I probably would have still gone through with it even had I known and not been backed into a corner.

I'd barely had a taste of sexual preferences outside the 'norm,' but I'd liked what I'd experienced. My partners had been fairly vanilla but the times that it had gone into kinky territory had excited me beyond what I could have expected. So of course when Sev mentioned his _tastes_, I was panting inside. My pride wouldn't let me show it, but damn I was excited. A little scared, but wet and throbbing.

I'm sure this whole thing seems pretty strange from the outside. We were getting along decently, I was out of immediate danger from my curse, I'd seen him naked and pissed him off...and then we decided to go to bed together. It was so heat-of-the-moment that I can't adequately describe it to you. All my synapses were firing in high gear. My emotions were frayed and my body primed. He tried to kick me out and I refused to leave. He snidely suggested he would do sexual things to me if I didn't leave, obviously trying to frighten me away. And I'd told him, fine, deal struck.

From his side it must have seemed like he was taking advantage of a helpless girl. I know now, because of his past, that he hated himself for accepting our deal. That he castigated himself for the way he kept me at first. But the reality was that I felt like I'd caught him. I was getting everything out of this deal. He was going to do everything in his power to cure me completely, _and_ I was going to get to sleep with him, too! It wasn't ideal circumstances for a first sexual encounter with a new partner, but I wasn't going to complain. It could have been much, much worse.

The way he tried to warn me about his sexual taste was both sweet and utterly, sinfully sexy. He was trying so hard to be gruff and mean but still tried to warn me, to talk me out of what he saw as a one sided deal. Even then he was trying to look out for me. Of course, he was just turning me on. I hid my excitement and put on a haughty face. I wasn't going to humiliate myself by saying, "Stop talking about it, take me somewhere and fuck me!" I refused to let him know that he had the upper hand. That I was practically gagging for it. The indignity of telling him that I wanted him so bad that I would agree to just about anything if he would just shut up and take me, couldn't be borne. So I raised my chin and challenged him. I stared down the bull.

Finally he took me upstairs.

Once my brain got over saying, 'yes yes yes thank god finally YES!' the beginnings of trepidation set in. I'd woken the beast and had to be prepared to deal with the consequences. I'm kind of a small woman, if you know what I mean, and he...well he's bigger than your average bear. I knew, I'd gotten the front row seat to his visit to Spankville only a few minutes before. Suddenly I realized that I hadn't had sex in a _year_ and he didn't seem to have any plans to ease me into it or anything.

The only thing keeping me from chickening out on what I was sure would be the most mind blowing sex of my life, was what I knew of him as a man. I don't mean the delicious yumminess of his body or that mind blowing spicy scent, I mean who he is inside. This was the man who'd spent almost twenty years protecting me and my friends. It wasn't in his nature to be physically cruel or to take pleasure from others' pain. He'd once protected me from a werewolf after I'd stunned him. A man like that wouldn't hurt me...right?

But I had to trust him. It wasn't something I did easily. In school we had been fucked over so many times, people we trusted turning out to be enemies...but I had to trust Sev. I did trust him. And I was about to see how far that trust extended.

We went into the room and he ordered me to strip. I suppressed my shiver of excitement at his forceful tone. Standing there naked, knowing his eyes were on me, _feeling_ him look at my most intimate places, was incredibly erotic. He'd seen me naked before, during the healings. But this was nothing like that. It was possessive. Then his hands were on me. Warm, calloused fingertips touching my skin. I resisted the urge to lean into his touch. When he held my hands behind my back I could feel my body screaming for his touch. He closed one big hand over my breast and I couldn't have suppressed the hitch in my breath any more than I could have prevented my next heartbeat. I closed my eyes as the pleasure washed over me.

Suddenly, he pushed me at the bed. _This is it,_I thought to myself. But when I moved to climb onto the bed, he stopped me. His chest pressed against my back and his lips moved down my neck. I arched and let him have more of it, my weight pressing back against him. Those biting kisses were driving me wild! Then he pushed me down so that I was on my elbows, bent over the edge of the bed. As he kicked my legs apart I could feel myself getting wetter, every cell in my body on fire for him. He moved close. The tip of his cock brushed against me and I thought I might scream in anticipation. I tremor of pleasure wracked me. I was about to push my hips back against him, urge him on, make him go faster because I was going to combust if he didn't give it to me!- and suddenly he backed away.

I heard him take in a sharp breath, the way you might take a quick gasp to keep the content of your lunch in your stomach at the sight of something truly revolting. Then he was gone.

I know now why he left that night. What caused his revulsion with himself. But at the time I had no idea at all. Had I done something wrong? Had I made my desire too obvious and this was his way of punishing me for it? Was I not sexy enough? Not what he wanted? Doubt and insecurity wracked me. I laid in that bed and wondered what the fuck had happened. What the hell had gone wrong. Late in the night I decided that he was gay. That was the only explanation. He must be gay. Raging boy-orgy gay. Yup. That was the problem. I was too feminine for him. Which really was too bad. Because while I was always open to having a new friend to shop with and swap love stories...I'd been really hoping to bang him. I wondered briefly if I got him really drunk one day he might consider switching teams just for the night...

When I woke up in the morning, I did a quick mental once over. The possibility that he'd come back after I'd gone to bed crossed my mind. But I didn't _think_ I'd had sex in my sleep. And with a guy his size I was pretty sure I'd feel it the next morning.

I went downstairs and found my tea waiting for me just as it had been almost every day since I arrived here. I tried not to read too much into it as I sipped the strong, hot liquid and contemplated last night. In fact, I spent most of the day thinking about it. I couldn't get it out of my head. When I brought him lunch my eyes kept straying to his body. I was quick and quite, hoping he wouldn't see me and realize I was oogling him. He didn't _look_ gay. Maybe he wore pink underwear or something. Maybe he was sexually repressed. I tried to imagine him in flamboyant clothes ordering a cosmo in a gay bar. I nearly burst out laughing and made a beeline for the door.

At dinner I kept taking sidelong glances at him. He seemed so stern, so menacing. My mind kept replaying the night before over and over again. Had I misread the situation? After dinner he took the book he'd been working with out to the living room. I watched him go, unsure if this meant that we were going back to our old routine. Did that mean I was welcome to stay but we wouldn't be sleeping together? Would he reconsider? After a moment I followed him out and grabbed _The Complete History of Hogwarts_ for some comfort reading. I figured I probably wouldn't get much reading done but I practically knew this book word for word anyways.

I went as long as I could without saying anything. I turned the pages when I thought I'd been looking at him long enough to constitute a page of reading. I shifted my weight and crossed my legs hoping to catch his attention. Finally I couldn't take it any more.

"I fell asleep last night waiting for you to come back. When I woke up this morning, I didn't think...I mean it didn't feel like..." I trailed off, unsure how to say what I meant without sounding insulting.

"I did not rape you in your sleep, if that is what your are driving at," he said tightly. "I like my women sentient." Whelp...so much for hoping not to insult him.

"I'm not sure you like women at all, after last night," I muttered.

"Excuse me?" he demanded. I could hear the indignation in his tone.

"You had me naked and willing and you walked out." My voice rose, almost shrill with the insecurities of an entire day weighing on me.

"Are you complaining," he growled.

"No! Yes! Is there something wrong with me?" I blurted out the question, shocked that I'd said the words. But once the were out I met his eyes and waited for an answer. He stared at me blankly.

"With you? What could possibly make you think that?"

"Oh I don't know, being left in bed by a man who made it clear only moments before that he was exceptionally horny might do it."

"Be grateful for the reprieve, pet, and don't question me. I may have decided that coerced sex _isn't _better than no sex at all." He suddenly looked away from me and down at his book. So...he wasn't gay. He was just too _noble_ to have sex with me under these circumstances? I should have known. Him and his goddamned nobility. It was getting in the way of my sex life!

"You're going back on our deal?" It was a stupid thing to say, since it was obvious that he was. But what else was I supposed to say? 'Don't be such a goodey-two-shoes and fuck me'?

"You're upset about that? Last night you were shaking like a goddamned leaf!" I couldn't miss the disgust in his tone. So thats what he was so upset about? Had he thought I was frightened of him? Guilt rushed through me but I smothered it with indignation.

"Maybe I was shaking in anticipation!"

"What?"

"Maybe after I got over the indignity of being forced into this position, I didn't mind it! I had a healthy, active sex life before this blasted curse. Its been a _year._ Maybe I decided sleeping with you wouldn't be so bad after all! And maybe I got caught up in what you were doing and forgot that I'm supposed to loathe you and the situation that you put me in! Of _course_ I was a little anxious- I haven't had sex in a _long _time and from what I saw earlier you're no slouch in the size department. Plus, you made it perfectly clear that you didn't plan to be gentle. But that doesn't mean that I wasn't excited, too!" I took a deep breath and realized I'd been rambling. I silently replayed my little tirade in my head and decided I hadn't said anything too stupid. I thought about saying more. Of trying to explain it better. But then he got up from the chair and stalked towards me. When he was close, he looked down at me and then pushed me back against the wall with his body. As soon as I tipped my face up to stare him down, he kissed me.

It was just as rough and dominating as our first kiss. He moved against me in that way that set me on fire. I couldn't think, couldn't rationalize anything. All I could do was kiss him back with everything I had. A moan rose up inside of me and mingled in our breath. He tore himself away.

We argued again, this time with me being bold and not letting him think that I didn't want what he was offering. I was brazen and maybe even a little rash, but I got through to him. He told me all the dirty things he was going to do to me and I didn't try to hide my excitement. I felt like a hussy throwing myself at him but I couldn't help it. I was addicted to him already. And then he said the words I would never forget.

"I can promise you two things. I will never hurt you more than you can handle," I swallowed hard and shivered in excitement. Would he show me exactly what that meant? "And you are _mine_ until this is done. No one else touches you. I don't share, Hermione."

Ok so that's all you voyeurs get for now. Harry and Ron are coming over later and I'd like to get in a quick romp with my husband to burn off all this excitement before they come over. If you think any of this is hot for you to hear about...imagine how hot it is for me to relive it! So in the interest of not going crazy and jumping Sev in the kitchen while Harry and Ron drink tea in the living room and pretend they don't hear us going at it (last time that happened Harry complained for _weeks_ afterward!), I'm off to go find my husband. But don't worry. I'll be back to tell the rest!


	18. Hermione 3

_**If you can't tell, I'm trying to write and post these as fast as I can. I have found that if I delay my posts to a few days apart I get more reviews and more people read, but there are so many of you, my regular readers and reviewers, that I have come to know through your screen names and words of encouragment and I just can't keep you waiting. I hope you're enjoying this little extra, different as it is, and I want to thank you all for indulging me in this. Its so different than the rest of the story in its Voice but I like it and I'm hoping you do too. Leave a review for me! Happy reading! : )**_

3

You know, house guests should _not _show up early if they don't want to get an eyeful. This is my house and I can damn well have sex on the couch if I damn well please! Ron really should learn to knock. Its his own fault. He just appiarates in and then starts squawking about his eyes burning and the herald of the apocalypse being the sight of 'Snape's bare ass.' What I want to know is what the hell he's complaining about when _I'm_ the one who was deprived of my orgasm! Bloody git. I bet he'll be bringing this story up at Christmas dinners until we are all gray haired. Maybe I will tell him if he doesn't pretend this never happened I will tell everyone about his occasional habit of wearing knickers with a silky bow tie on the back. That ought to keep him quiet.

I'm just glad that Harry didn't show up with the children until ten minutes later when all traces of sexual deviance had been removed from the living room!

Anyhow, I guess I ought to pick up with the story for you all. I ran out at a very inopportune time, didn't I? Ah well, don't worry. I will tell enough this time to fulfill all that build up. I've decided not to bother with modesty. If you want to live vicariously through my sexual encounters...who am I to judge? I've been guilty of reading a dirty story more times than I can count. They are actually a great source of inspiration for all kinds of kinky machinations. I just need to figure out a spell to put on this when I'm done that will keep any children, grandchildren, great grandchildren or great great grandchildren from being able to read it. After that many generations I think it will be safe...right?

So. I was just telling you about the two promises Sev made to me that would become the basis of our relationship for years to come. "I can promise you two things. I will never hurt you more than you can handle...And you are _mine_ until this is done. No one else touches you. I don't share, Hermione."

Is that hot or what? I mean, at the time I was tantalized, dying with curiosity to know what he meant about "more than you can handle," in the pain department. But it was the second half that had the farthest reaching impact for us. I didn't learn until much later, of course, that some dominant men like Sev actually _do_ share their women- what I was hearing instead was a declaration of monogamy. He was saying that I was his...but he was also saying that he was mine. I know it wasn't exactly spelled out that he would be exclusive to me, but I guess you had to be there. It was something with the intensity in his eyes as he spoke, the deep, raw way his voice growled the words, how he held me as he said it. He meant it for both of us. A promise and a warning.

"You are mine, Hermione. Say it." he ordered. I licked my suddenly dry lips, aware in some intuitive part of my mind that this was a commitment. That this was life changing. Maybe even aware in the deeply buried, long ignored, seriously discredited prophetic part of my brain that this was forever.

"I'm yours," I whispered. And it was done. No going back. Nor did I want to. The look of satisfaction that darkened his face sent a shiver of excitement through me. I was his. To do with as he pleased. In two steps he was next to me, picking me up as if I weighted nothing at all. I could feel his muscles bunch and flex under his t shirt, could smell that scent that never quite left him of crushed herbs and fresh spices. He had carried me before, but none of them were like this. He was cradling me to his chest, without even realizing it I think. His arms were like steel bands but he was infinitely gentle in the way he held me. As if I was some treasure of unspeakable value.

Its a feeling that he has dedicated his life to inciting in me. One I know he firmly believes.

As he climbed the stairs I should have been mentally preparing. I should have been worrying about what exactly we were going to do, what all he would expect of me. At the very least I should have been busy drooling over him. Instead I took the time to study his face. So few people dared to meet his eyes that it occasionally gave me glimpses at the man beneath it. The real him, hidden inside behind a hard, cold exterior. And in that moment his face bore an intense look that took my breath away. It was part anticipation, part satisfaction, part admiration...and the slightest hint of trepidation.

The trepidation still confused me. My brain hadn't had a chance to consider what those scars he carried could mean to his psyche. I think even if I'd had ten years I could never have imagined the truth behind them or what they had done to him inside. At the time I wondered how long it had been for him since his last sexual encounter. Was he worried about his bottle-rocket going off before the fireworks show started? Was he worried about hurting me? Was he worried I wouldn't be any good in bed?

At that..._was_ I any good in bed? I'd never had any complaints, sure, but I'd never been with a man like Sev before! Or what if I was horrible and no one had bothered to tell me? Suddenly I was aware of how pitifully small my sexual experience roster was. Would he be turned off by my inexperience? But he was so dominant...wouldn't he be able to instruct me on what he wanted? Tell me what to do?

He glanced down and caught me staring at him, biting my lip. I quickly looked away. Then we were in the bedroom and he was kicking the door closed behind him. I fought the urge to jump at the sharp sound it made as it closed. He set me down and I took a step back, waiting.

"Strip," he ordered. I paused, my brain stalling out. I was still incredibly turned on, still wanted him, but I'd let my brain get in the way and now I hesitated. "Now." He took one step towards me, a silent threat. I pulled off my shirt and stripped off my jeans. "All of it," he commanded. As his eyes roved over what was visible of my skin, the slow burn returned. I could almost feel his hands on me already, that possessive gaze building sweet anticipation as keenly as fingertips could. Holding his gaze, I slid my bra off and then pushed my panties down. His breath caught in the slightest hitch and I knew he was just as excited as I was.

He stalked towards me as if I were prey—and in a way I was—and then went behind me. His hand was hot on my skin as he slid it down my back, over my hip, fingers pressing ever so lightly into the skin. In one swift, rough move he pulled my back against his chest. Or rather he pulled my ass against his erection. I couldn't stifle my gasp. He felt even bigger than what I'd seen. He'd fit...right? The rational part of me was desperately trying to stay in the game, but my libido and inner sub were taking over. And they voted ole rationality off the island.

Just when I thought I couldn't bear any more excitement or anticipation, Sev conjured up a blindfold and tied it securely over my eyes. I raised my hands to the material in shock but he pushed them back down.

"It stays," he ordered. There was steel in his tone. I obediently dropped my hands. Every other sense prickled to life now that I was deprived of sight. I could hear him stripping off his own clothes and then taking a step closer to me. I could feel the heat of his skin and the soft brush of his breath on my forehead. Then his hands were on my shoulders. He only put the slightest pressure on me, but I knew what he wanted. My tongue darted out to moisten my lips as I sank down to my knees in front of him.

I know that it seems like that position would be one of humiliation or degradation, one to be avoided at all costs!- but if that's what you think you've either never knelt in front of a man that truly excites you, or you're just not submissive. Because on my knees in front of him suddenly felt so natural, so real, so _right_ that I was shocked in spite of myself. I'd never expected to respond this strongly to his dominance. The little shivers of anticipation and the thrills of excitement hadn't prepared me for the intensity of my pleasure at kneeling before him. I throbbed and tingled everywhere.

I reached up, eager to explore him. I heard the almost imperceptible whish of slim wood slicing air and suddenly my hands were bound behind my back. I was disappointed at first, like a kid who had their lollypop taken away from them. Then my excitement intensified. I really was totally at his mercy, bound and sightless. He could do anything to me. My breath came quick and shallow, blood singing in my veins to a dark, seductive beat. The thrill of it all was intoxicating. I felt like I could do anything, like I would fly apart at the seams, like all my senses had just awakened and were on overload.

"No hands," he said. I nodded and waited. I knew his cock had to be right in front of me even though I couldn't see it. All I had to do was lean forward just a fraction of an inch and open my mouth. But I waited. Impatiently, I might add. Even though it was only a second or two later, it was still too long. He wrapped my hair around his fist and brought my head forward. The tip of him bumped into my lips. I licked my lips again and then curled my tongue around the crown of his erection. I felt the subtle jerk of his muscles, like he almost jumped out of his skin at that first contact. I smiled and then hid the smile by drawing him into my mouth. I'd only given him a few strokes that way when his hand on my hair tightened. It was only just not painful. He was urging me farther, insisting that I take him deeper. His cock met the back of my throat- the farthest I'd ever taken one. He paused and I breathed deeply through my nose. I knew that I could do this. I waited for my throat to adjust to the sensation.

He pulled back and pushed forward again. The pressure was back, light but insistent. He slid to the back of my throat, and then under that gentle pressure he went even deeper. I swallowed instinctively and suddenly he was buried deeply in my throat. It was...unfamiliar, strange and edging on uncomfortable. But as I breathed in through my nose the feeling eased. I relaxed and when he pulled out and pushed back in again, there was no resistance this time. In only a few strokes I had it down and he let me take over the rhythm. I gave myself over to pleasuring him and let carnal instincts take over. I was attuned to every twitch of his muscles, every involuntary little hitch in his breathing. I learned in a crash course what he liked and what he loved. What drove him crazy. I memorized the taste of him, the texture of him on my tongue.

In a few minutes I could feel him start to tense. He put his hand back in my hair and used the other to cradle my head. I stilled, waiting to see what he would do. Suddenly he was thrusting his hips, fucking my throat. My surprise quickly turned to pleasure as he moved faster and faster. I moaned, desire coursing through me like a raging river. He actually swelled in my throat, getting bigger just before he released. And then he was coming, his breathing ragged as he buried himself deep into my throat and let go. I took savage satisfaction in the strangled cry that escaped him. I swallowed and his hands tightened on me as the pleasure continued to streak through him. Finally he let go of my hair and stepped back. If I heard right, he even staggered a little.

Well so much for worrying about if I was good or not. I felt smug, satisfied, very cat-got-the-canary. Even though I tried to keep my face neutral I knew I couldn't completely suppress my smile. In another moment he pulled me to my feet. I'd like to say I rose fluidly and gracefully, but to be honest I nearly fell against him. Blowjob grade: A+ Sitting on my heels grade: D-

Oh well. Can't win em all. His hand came up and brushed my chin. Had a drop escaped and landed there? Why the fuck did that excite me? I couldn't help it. I was turning into some foreign kinky stranger overnight. His hand came up to my neck, long fingers curled loosely around my throat. His thumb stroked my skin softly. I wasn't afraid when his fingers tightened fractionally. I was aroused. It was a sign of dominance. An age old display of who was the alpha dog. There were no questions with us. I tipped my chin up and leaned into his hand. I didn't want to vie for dominance. I wanted to be dominated.

Quickly he pushed me back onto the bed. It wasn't the most comfortable position, with my hands still bound behind my back, but then he pinned my shoulders down and I felt his lips against my skin and I forgot about everything else but what his mouth was doing to me. Those scorching kisses moved down, down down _down_ and then...he stopped! I actually gnashed my teeth. Seriously. I thought I was going to simply go up in flames if I didn't get some relief soon! To have him so close...I was so turned on, so excited that I was sure it would just take one little lick...

Then he flipped me over onto my stomach. His hips pressed against my ass and I could feel him getting hard again. My brain was screaming 'yes yes right now!' but I didn't want to break the spell we were in. The dark fingers of seduction that were wrapped around us tightly. Suddenly he pulled me up onto my knees on the bed. He followed me up, putting the flat of his hand between my shoulder blades and running it along my spine in a way that made me arch my back. He slid down my back, over my ass and then stopped between my legs. I pushed back closer to him, trying to deepen the contact. As if he knew exactly what I wanted, he thrust one finger inside me. I arched and gasped sharply at it. I was so aroused I hadn't expected to feel so full with just his finger in me! It felt good, so fucking good, and my brain was screaming in pleasure because I knew it would only get better, get hotter. This was just the tip of the iceberg. He went from one finger to two, then three. I panted, moaning with desire but not sure I could take any more. I felt stretched to the limit, pushed to the brink, and he hadn't even started fucking me yet.

I groaned and then suddenly he was stroking me, his thumb on my clit. I nearly screamed as a shudder of pleasure ran through me. Every muscle in my body contracted tightly. His hand moved faster, more forcefully, preparing me for what was to come. Quickly he withdrew his hand and my body instantly craved it back. I wanted him, I needed him, so badly that I rocked my hips back towards him trying to get him to hurry, to fuck me! He leaned closer over my back and put his fingers in my mouth.

I froze, not sure what the hell just happened. Nothing like this had ever been done to me before and my brain didn't have time to process what the hell I thought about it. I could taste myself on his fingers. It was slightly salty, slightly sweet, slippery on my tongue. Instinctively I knew what he wanted and I sucked- exactly the way I had sucked his cock before. He groaned and pulled his fingers from my mouth. I licked my lips, excited by what he'd just done and not even sure why. His hand gripped my hip and I felt the tip of his cock brush against me. I pushed back again, begging silently. His hand tightened on my hip and then his other hand moved around and between my legs again.

With one very skilled finger he stroked me and I felt that same contraction, that same spike of pleasure. As my body relaxed I felt him sink into me. Finally, finally finally! He was like a hot brand but instead of pain it was pleasure sinking into my skin and marking me for life. He stroked again and repeated the motion. In a few moments he was all the way inside of me. I shuddered and panted, every nerve in my body tightened and smoldering. He was moving forcefully but carefully, as if making sure he wouldn't hurt me. I didn't care. I just wanted _more. _I rocked back onto him the next time he pulled back and it was as if something snapped inside of him at that little movement. He started thrusting faster, harder, taking me with a brutal passion that ignited everything inside of me and built towards an orgasm so intense that it frightened me. It only took one more slow stroke of his fingers and I was over that edge. My body felt foreign for the first moment, coiled so tight with pleasure that I thought I would rip apart into a million little pieces. Then all at once my synapses started firing again, this time shooting so fast that my body couldn't keep up, could only ride out the storm of pleasure that tore through me. I screamed, and screamed, shuddering and gasping to catch my breath, my heart thundering. I felt drunk, tingles of pleasure dancing along my skin and through my blood. I felt boneless. If Sev hadn't been holding me up I would have collapsed. As soon as my body started to relax he picked up his pace and rode me hard and fast as his own orgasm rose. It actually extended my own release, drawing out the pleasure until I could only moan and accept it.

Finally, we both collapsed. My arms were still behind my back but I didn't care if I ever moved again. I could have happily died right then, letting the aftershocks of my orgasm take me away in a pleasure induced coma. Sev reached over and untied my bindings and somehow I managed to drag my arms up to lay my head on them. We both caught our breath and let our racing hearts slow. There was sweat drying on our skin, the soft breeze from the window brushing slick flesh in a featherlight kiss. After a few moments I realized I still had my blindfold on and reached up to pull it off. Sev stopped me for a moment and I heard the rustle of the blankets. Then he took off the blindfold. I had to blink several times to let my eyes adjust to sight again. But I desperately wanted to see him. Somehow this all felt like a dream and I thought that if I could just see him... He came into focus softly, blurred at the edges and then sharpening. Oh yeah, no face trying that hard to look indifferent could be a dream.

"Wow," I breathed. His face twisted comically. Apparently that wasn't the reaction he expected. "I mean...wow. Who knew?"

"Knew what?" he snapped. I could hear the anger and insecurity building in his tone but didn't have enough energy to care.

"That it would...be like _that_!" How was I supposed to describe adequately the absolutely life changing pleasure he'd just given me?

"Like that?"

"Amazing. Incredible. Mind blowing." I twisted onto my back and rested my hand on my forehead. "Is it always like that?" Could I handle that much pleasure?

"I'll admit, that was particularly pleasurable, even compared to what I am used to," he admitted stiffly. I laughed at the formal way he said it, as if we weren't both naked and hadn't just exchanged bodily fluids.

"Why, Sev, is that a compliment?" I smiled and blinked innocently up at him.

"Merely noting that dominating you seems especially enjoyable for me."

"Well apparently being dominated by you is 'especially enjoyable' for me as well. We definitely need to do that again, and soon." I snuggled deeper into the pillow and let out a contented sigh. I couldn't remember ever being that sated, that thoroughly pleasured. Sev scowled and pushed up onto his elbows. He leaned over me and gave me a thoroughly dark look.

"You do not get a say on what we do, or when we do it, pet. You are mine, remember?" He growled the words softly. "You are mine to do with as I please, as often as I please." I gaped at him, taken aback by his reaction to me saying I wanted more. What kind of guy said no to that? Then a smug little smile quirked his lips. "Fortunately for you, I do plan to do that again, and soon. Over and over until neither of us can move. Until you're hoarse from screaming my name in pleasure." I wanted to pop him in the back of the head and laugh at him but refrained, containing it to only an amused little smile of my own. The idea of being hoarse from screaming his name in pleasure appealed to me on many, many levels.

He leaned over and kissed me then. It wasn't a punishing kiss or a shocking kiss. It was my first taste of happy Sev. He's a beast in bed, but there are these times when he's thoroughly pleasured, sexually exhausted, and he doesn't have enough energy left for proper snarkyness...and then I get to see happy Sev in bed. He's not any less exciting, its just less urgent. He's more relaxed, his touches lingering instead of quick and efficient. I love both sides of him, but that first taste of happy Sev was the sweetest. I didn't know he could be like that. It made my toes curl in pleasure as his tongue explored my mouth, his lips worshiping my body in slow strokes.

We explored at least half of the Kama Sutra that night, probably even inventing a few new positions. But he never took me face to face. I wasn't complaining- there was nothing impersonal about what we were doing, but it struck me as strange at first.

Then I remembered his scars. In all the pleasure I'd completely forgotten. When it came back to me I felt a ridiculous rush of guilt that I'd gotten so caught up in sex that I'd forgotten. But why should I feel guilty? He was so careful to never let me see or touch them that he obviously _wanted _me to forget them. But did he think that I would be horrified by them? That I would stare like he was a circus freak? Maybe he just couldn't bear to think about them either. My mind wandered back over the things he'd said, the bits of information I'd picked up. What had happened to him?

As if he could sense I was distracted, Sev turned up the intensity and I was suddenly unable to think, only to feel and scream in pleasure. And thats how the rest of the night went. Sev was insatiable. I couldn't help but get wrapped up in what he was doing and it left no room for thought of anythign else. When we finally fell asleep I had my body tucked tightly against his, my back against his chest, my hips back against his. My head was resting on his arm. The whole thing was intimate in a way that had nothing to do with sex. I wasn't sure if he was just too tired to move me or if he enjoyed it as much as I did, but Sev didn't move me. We fell asleep like that. I was exhausted, sated and happy. But I also felt protected, cherished, treasured. It was strange coming from the man who thought he was just using me for sex...but I knew better. I knew what was blossoming between us long before he did. And so I took those warm feelings and put them in a little box hidden near my heart. I would save them up, store them there for both of us, until we were ready for them.

And that, my friends, is where I will leave you for now. And speaking of being warm and safe and sated in my Sev's arms, that's where I'm headed now. I have an overdue orgasm in addition to whatever he has on the docket for tonight so I'm sure it will be a perfectly deviant, perfectly toe curling night. Its a good thing that Draco gave us that silencing charm for our bedroom as a wedding present. Even if the little twit had meant it as a joke. I can just imagine the kids running in wondering what was wrong when mommy started screaming in pleasure. Knowing the way Sev is about protecting the kids' innocence he'd probably force us to have sex outside every night just to make sure it never happened again! Not that I have any problem with outdoor sex- its quite fun actually- but in the summer the chigger bites would be a pain in my ass. Literally.

Speaking of pain in my ass...maybe what Sev has in mind for tonight will involve spanking... Ok, now I really need to go. I'm much too worked up to continue writing. Off to the bedroom I go.


	19. Hermione 4

4

Ahhhh...that's much better. Perfectly lovely evening of intensely erotic games plus a morning romp. I am one happy Hermione. If you don't have your own Sev-type sex god I highly recommend them!

Anyhoo, I guess I should get back to the story! We had some banter that next morning but nothing life altering. The day got spicy when I brought in Sev's lunch that afternoon. I'd worn a green blouse and a knee length skirt. Don't gasp, I do have a feminine side, contrary to what you might think. I didn't get to show it for most of my formative years but we were in a war for Godricks sake! Of course I am still a practical woman, but that day was the first I noticed just how much Sev loved seeing me in dresses and skirts. I made lunch and took it into his study. I wasn't exactly sure how he would act so I put on a bright smile and pretended that it never crossed my mind that he might be peeved about me interrupting him.

I went over to the table with the least amount of junk on it (Sev will have a tizzy if he sees I've called all his papers and quills junk, so let me clarify- his very important documents and precious quills!) and started laying out the food. I studiously avoided looking at him as soon as I started. I didn't want to chance him telling me to get the hell out of his study. When I straightened, I was surprised that he was directly behind me. My back came up against his chest and I gasped. He was hard, his breath hot against my neck. His fingers skated along the thin sliver of skin that was exposed above the line of my skirt. Then he slowly slid his hand under my shirt and up to my breast. I felt weak kneed and breathless, instantly aroused. When his other hand moved down to lift my skirt, his teeth closed gently on my earlobe and I went boneless against him. Merciful heaven he was sinfully seductive and I had no resistance. Nor did I want any. I needed him already- ached for him. He bent me over the table and slid my panties down my legs in one swift move.

He brought his hand between my legs and growled low, deep in his throat when he found me wet. My legs trembled as I felt him undo his belt buckle, the cool leather sliding over my ass and then the heat of his erection pressed against me. I wanted to urge him faster, to beg him, but I knew he wanted to run the show. I waited, breathless for a moment and then he thrust into me. It wasn't like last night, inch by inch. This was one swift push, impaling me deep and hard and making me moan and clench the sides of the table so hard my knuckles turned white.

He took me hard and fast. The force of his thrusts made the table rock, things on it scattered and fell to the floor. Neither of us cared. An ink pot spilled and to this day there is a partial handprint stained on that table from where I put my hand in the ink and braced for my orgasm. I love that table. Anyway, I was so turned on and mindless but I could tell he was going to come quickly. He was already starting to gasp and thrust into me harder – the things I'd learned last night meant he was close. I couldn't complain about the romp as far as pleasure went so I was fully prepared for him to finish any time. I honestly didn't expect an orgasm.

I'm not saying that the men I'd been with before had been sexually inept. So, ok, lets face it. When I say men, I mean Ron. There was that one guy I took to bed once when Ron and I were in a mini break up, but basically, Ron was my sexual experience. And as gross as it is for me to think about it now, there really wasn't anything wrong with my sex life back then. Ron was (let me just heave a little and then write this) an attentive, generous lover with perfectly adequate stamina. But even for him it would have been nearly impossible to make me orgasm after a full night of sex and with just a quickie.

So of course I was surprised when BAM out of the blue I was bracing my hand against the table (in a puddle of ink) as I screamed and came. Actually screamed is the non-embarrasing way of saying that I half started to say 'what the hell' as it rose up, then got caught in the middle and garbled something like 'oh fuck!' and ended in a scream. Yeah. Really attractive. I know.

He followed me quickly and was out and redoing his belt even quicker. I was sort of dazed as I straightened and turned. I'm sure my cheeks were tomato red, a great look for me, and my hair had to look like crows had stopped by and roosted in it, but I didn't care. I was still in that post-orgasm glow and probably wouldn't have cared had I sprouted a tentacle at that moment. I looked up at him, towering over me, still looking sinfully sexy and composed, if a little out of breath, and let out a shaky laugh.

"Well, that was...unexpected." I pushed hair out of my face and tried valiantly (and failed dismally) to look as cool and collected as he did.

"I told you I would take you whenever I wanted. If you have a problem with that-"

"No," I cut him off before he could get the wrong impression. "I'm just surprised, is all. Pleasantly surprised, but surprised all the same."

"Sex in the afternoon shocks you?" One raven brow arched, the same way I'd seen it arch a thousand times before that meant he was saying something in his equivalent of sarcasm.

"Well- I keep waiting for you to finish and leave me hanging." I bit my tongue and nearly went cross eyed when my brain realized what I'd just said. Great way to build a guy's confidence, telling him you expect him to fail. Brilliant. Bloody brilliant.

"And...you're upset about this?" This time his brows came together in absolute confusion. It was a look I'd only seen a few times, as so little confused him, but I couldn't blame him. I sounded like a dunderhead.

"NO! I just... I'm surprised!"

"Surprised that I'm good in bed." I could hear his patience growing thin. The thought I was insulting him and I kept messing up my explanation, which I fully blamed on him- my brain was sex addled!

"No damn it, I just mean that even guys who are good in bed can't always... you know!" I blushed what I'm sure was a very becoming shade of plum (notice the heavy sarcasm there?). If he'd have made me spell it out any farther I'm sure my head would have simply exploded.

"You can't have been with that many men who were good in bed if they couldn't keep you satisfied," he said in that low, gravelly voice.

"I guess you're right," I murmured, a slow smile spreading across my face. I knew right then that life with Sev would never be dull.

"Run along now, pet. I've got my end of this bargain to keep up." He turned from me and back to his desk, but not before I saw the self satisfied smile that quirked the corners of his lips up. I cleaned the table with a flick of my wand and sashayed out of the study, ridiculously pleased with myself.

I went and explored the library. There were hundreds of books in there, each one more interesting than the last. Before I knew it the afternoon had gone by and I rose from the chair I'd been perched on. I stopped and made a face as I stood, shocked. I was _sore_. I mean, ran a marathon or two last night sore. And sore...down there! (And yes, despite my sexual deviance I do still have a problem with the colorful and clinical names for female genitalia when they aren't being spoken in a deep and rumbley voice by my husband. I'm a pansy. Bite me.) I left the library and went into the kitchen, testing out stiff muscles gingerly as I made dinner.

By the time it was prepared, most of the knots in my muscles had worked themselves out. Convinced the rest of my soreness would dissipate, I put my concerns behind me and had a very enjoyable dinner. We...talked. I know that sounds silly, but it was a major milestone for me. It wasn't just idle chit chat or even the banter we'd started to perfect. This was actual discussion. For the first time we were talking as equals, not as student and teacher, and he treated my thoughts and ideas with respect, even if he didn't agree with all of them. I hate to say it, but the rational hold-out in my brain that wasn't ready to be seduced by a few good fucks, fell in love with him that night. He was the pinnacle of intelligence in my mind. Hyper rational, incredibly smart...the little librarian in my head's wet dream. And to be talking to him like this, well it was a mind-fuck, in all the best ways.

When we were done with dinner we went out to the living room to read. I mentioned that I'd finished the book I had been reading before (I _didn't_ mention that it was one I had memorized six years ago) he told me the library was open to me at all times and I could take any book I wanted from there (I also didn't mention that I had been in there several times before he gave me permission. Oops.). On my way to the library I realized I was still sore. Not my muscles any more. Just...there. (_Bite_ me!) So while I was in the relative privacy of the library I whispered a quick healing spell and flicked my wand at myself. There was the usual tingle of warmth from a healing charm and then it faded. I took the book I wanted and shifted my hips experimentally. Not as bad, but still sore. I pursed my lips in frustration and went back to my chair, wondering if I'd done the spell wrong somehow. But that was crazy. It was a simple charm. There was no way I'd messed it up. So why wasn't it working?

As the night wore on, I really started to panic. I hadn't considered this possibility when I'd made our deal. How would he react to being told that he couldn't have sex with me for a while because I was sore? I'd told him anywhere, any time. I am a woman of my word, but I was afraid I was going to have to break it. Masochism has never been on my list of turn-ons. I tried to focus on my book but I couldn't. I kept shifting uncomfortably, glancing at him and wondering what he would say, how he would react. Finally I couldn't take it any more. I stood up abruptly and announced I was going to bed.

Sev just looked up at me exasperated from being interrupted and said he would be up shortly. Cool as anything. As if I wasn't dying from uncertainty just two feet away from him! I took the stairs two at a time and closed the door behind me when I reached the bedroom. Like that was going to do me a lot of good. Then, using all the logic I'd already been using all evening, I put on one of his t shirts and pulled the covers up to my chin. Childish, I know, but I wasn't thinking clearly at the time. I snuggled deeper into the blankets and inhaled that spicy scent I knew so well now. It struck me as odd that I was comforted by the smell of the same man who's reaction I was so nervous about. The irony wasn't lost on me.

I started counting the minutes until he came up. I took deep breaths and told myself I was being ridiculous. He was a sane, rational man. He'd already told me he wouldn't hurt me. So why was I so worried? The sound of the door opening made me jump. He closed the door quietly behind him and stood there for a moment. I could _feel_ his eyes on me.

"Strip," he ordered softly. I took a deep breath and sat up. My hands moved nervously. I took a deep breath and looked up at him. He looked so imposing, towering over me... I looked back down and took another deep breath. I licked my lips and looked up again. My mouth opened but I couldn't get the words out. "What?!" I hadn't even spoken yet and he was already exasperated!

"I...I don't want to have sex tonight." I forced the words out and dared a quick glance at him. He stiffened and glared at me.

"Excuse me?" His whisper was menacing.

"I don't want to have sex tonight," I repeated it stupidly, as if he simply hadn't heard and needed it spoken again to clear everything up. Yeah, right. He stalked across the room and yanked the blanket off of me. I let out a very ladylike yelp that was silenced as he pinned me to the bed. His mouth crashed against mine, rough and insistent. It was a punishing kiss again, just as arousing, just as exciting, but hard and dominant. He broke away and his lips moved down my neck and to my shoulder. He bit down right where my neck and shoulder meet, that small niche that seems to hold a direct link to my clit. I moaned and my back bowed up to him.

"You don't _get _to make that decision, pet. You are mine, remember? Whatever I want, whenever I want." His voice was rough and harsh, his hands moving over me in both a symbol of ownership and a rhythm designed to drive me mad.

"Stop," I moaned the word, caught in his spell, not any spell involving magic but one that he wove with the touches of his calloused fingertips on my skin, with his mouth against me.

"No." He kept going, hands moving everywhere he knew would ignite my blood. I was panting, flooded by desire and only holding onto rationality by a thread.

"Please," I whispered. He froze and drew back as if I'd burned him. I tried to catch my breath. "Please," I repeated. He made an anguished sound like an animal caught in a trap. His eyes searched mine, thoughts I had no way of knowing crossing his mind. He looked so...tortured.

"Why?" He asked the question as if I'd just told him his favorite pet would have to be put down. As if a man like Sev ever had a favorite pet. Well he hadn't back then but there is this one adorable kitten that he... but thats another story. Remind me later and I'll tell you about it. For now, lets go back to when I was caught in his gaze, ensnared in the torment that seemed to be eating at him. He was drowning and I didn't know how to save him. His hands were gripping my arms and he was staring down at me as if willing me to somehow save him.

"I'm...sore. Down there." I blushed another _very _appealing shade of scarlet and couldn't meet his eyes. I was suddenly very interested in his shoulder. A perfectly lovely shoulder. "I tried a healing spell but it doesn't seem to work the same." It was a miserable explanation but it was the best I had.

And just like that, all the tension drained from him. It was like letting the air out of balloon. He relaxed against me, his breathing evening out. He moved his hands up to frame my face but I still couldn't look at him.

"Look at me," he commanded. My gaze flicked to his and away just a quickly. "I'll not repeat myself, Hermione. Do what I say." I took a deep breath and raised my eyes to look at him. "You are mine, Hermione. Mine to do with as I please. If you want out you can leave my home right now and never come back. But if you stay you submit yourself to me completely."

I cannot even begin to describe what it felt like to hear those words. Were my only choices really pain now or pain later? I knew I could leave. I was free to walk out whenever I wanted. But when the nightmares came there would be no end in sight. And what was a little pain during sex compared to the pain of nightly torture? I knew there was no contest. The tenuous hope that had been budding in my chest, the _respect_ for him, started to die. "However," he added softly, and my heart skipped a beat. I didn't want to think less of him. I didn't want our relationship to be like that. I wanted so much more,  
and I wanted to jump at the possibility. "I promised you I would not physically harm you."

"Not more than I can handle, is what you said." There was tenuous hope taking root once again in my heart. I couldn't help it. I wanted it so badly. I probably sounded like I was pouting but my emotions were so jumbled that I wasn't regulating my tone. Sev then did something that utterly surprised me.

He laughed. A dark, seductive laugh. It rolled through me and shook off some of my tension.

"Ah, pet, I was referring to something altogether different when I added that amendment. And soon I will show you exactly what I meant." He got hard and pressed himself against me. I gasped at the pressure in that oh-so-sweet spot. "But not tonight. You cannot tell me _no_, but it is necessary that you tell me things that concern your health. That includes when you are sore. You've given me your body. You must also give me your trust."

"I do trust you," I started to say, but he cut me off.

"You must trust me to take my pleasure from you in a way that will not break my promise." He spoke to me the way you speak to a wild animal that you are afraid of spooking. But his voice took on a steely tone at this next words. "You may make your concerns and needs known, but do not presume to think you get to choose. While you are in my home and abiding by this deal, that decision is not yours to make."

I considered what he'd said. He wanted me to trust him not to break his promise. He wouldn't hurt me. I was supposed to let him know how I felt but if I was truly his, I wasn't allowed to voice them as a demand. Did he really think he could 'take his pleasure from me,' and not hurt me? Curious, and tentatively trusting, I nodded slowly.

"Now then. Lets try this again." He rolled off of me. I'm not ashamed to admit that even amidst those circumstances I felt the loss of his body against mine. "Strip." I worried my bottom lip and then caught the hem of the shirt in my hands. I pulled it off in one motion and tossed it onto the floor. "You seem less than excited, pet. Is there something on your mind?" He drawled the words as if he really had no idea what it could be. Twit.

"I'm sore," I said again, this time not a demand or even an explanation. Just a statement of fact.

"Thank you for telling me," he said formally. "I will take that into consideration." With a flick of his wand the lamp went out. Darkness overtook the room, except where moonlight bathed us in a soft glow. "Turn over." I did what he aid and stared resolutely at the sheets to keep myself from looking back at him. I knew he hated that. I heard him moving, taking his clothes off, but when he got into the bed beside me he still had his pants on. He lay on his side next to me, his head propped onto his elbow. With his hair falling into his eyes, the moonlight splashed against his chest, he looked incredibly...human. I know it sounds stupid because he _is_ human (though I've always thought he might have a bit of Veela blood in him somewhere. Don't tell him, he'd throw a fit!) but what I mean is that this wasn't the stiff potions professor lying next to me. It wasn't the hero who'd spent half his life protecting me and my friends, serving selflessly for the cause of right. He was just a man. Lying next to a woman. I wanted to reach out and touch his chest, to brush the hair from his eyes. Instead I looked at the heavily corded muscle in his forearm, the grace and strength of his fingers where they rested against his face. The powerful bulk of his bicep. And I kept my hands firmly in place. I didn't need to upset him right then my touching him. He would come to me.

And he did. He ran his hand down my back, following the curve of my spine. It was something he liked, I'd noticed. Something he still likes. Then his hand dipped lower, between my legs. I tensed and took a quick sharp breath to keep myself from an audible gasp. He hadn't quite touched me there yet. It didn't hurt. But I waited on pins and needles. When his fingers brushed over me, they were curiously warm. When there was still no pain I realized he was using magic, healing magic specifically for this. I relaxed, muscles unknotting. Then he slid his finger into me. There still wasn't any pain but I was so shocked that I looked over my shoulder at him.

"Don't look at me," he ordered softly. There was none of his usual menace in the words. It was more like a fond reminder to a child. I suppose I ought to have been offended at being spoken to like an errant child, but to be honest I found it endearing. From a man like Sev, that kind of tenderness is closely akin to love and respect. I turned obediently back but couldn't get the image of him out of my head. The moonlight spilling over his bare chest, making the scars snaking up from over his stomach almost opaque. His long black hair brushing his broad shoulders. His eyes surprisingly gentle as he stared down at me. And his touch... His hand was insistent, forceful, but I still felt no pain. There was a cooling sensation alternating with a relaxing heat coming from his fingers. I could feel her soreness melting away as he slowly dipped his finger in and out of me.

The movements changed subtly, going from healing to sexual. I started to not just relax and accept the soothing rhythm but to arch up to it and allow the pleasure to build. When I was in a fever-pitch, Severus shifted back, shucked his pants and then covered me with his body. He felt warm and secure and safe. His erection prodded between my legs and the slowly sank into me. It felt like heaven. I moaned in bliss and lifted my hips to take him deeper. As he began to thrust his hands slid over my shoulders, down the length of my arms and his fingers laced with mine. We were pressed close together, his chest to my back, his mouth moving against my shoulder, our legs tangled together.

It was so sweet, so intense. How do I convey... This was the way he could express to me the words he couldn't say. This wasn't just sex. It was deep and endless, like a midnight ocean reflecting the stars to infinity. It still makes me shiver to recall it. This was Severus' first act of _love._ Though he'd never have admitted it. And that night, I lost all resistance. He already had me body and soul by then, but those twenty minutes of skin against skin, of our bodies moving to the age old symphony of lovers, I gave my heart to him as well. I couldn't help it. I was his. Utterly. Wholly. Irrevocably.

He wasn't stroking between my legs like he usually did, but I rose to orgasm all the same. When he whispered my name into my ear, like a plea, a benediction, I fell apart in his arms, release singing through my veins. I held tightly to his hands and screamed his name, a prayer of my own. For this. For us. Forever.

He came as I did and as our hearts slowed he rested his forehead against the small hollow between my shoulder blades. I ached to hold him. I wanted to kiss him, to tell him exactly how I felt. But I knew he wasn't ready. Would he ever be? I had to hope he would. Someday, we would come together this way and I would be able to whisper all the things I felt for him, whisper my promise of forever.

Finally, he dropped a small kiss on my shoulder and shifted his weight off of me. I smiled and wondered if he'd even noticed the kiss. It was such a simple, sweet gesture. Had he realized he'd done it? Or was it just another small expression of his feelings coming out without him noticing? I didn't care. Either way I closed my eyes and cherished the little kiss.

Still pressed close together, Sev rested his chin on the top of my head. I traced his hands with my fingers. His are so much bigger than mine, rough and calloused with long, strong fingers. I touched all the places I'd looked at earlier, relishing the contact. Then I laced my fingers into his once more and sighed contentedly.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"For what?" His voice was deep and rough but colored with surprise. He looked down at me curiously.

"For that. For giving me a reason to trust you this way. I know you expected me to give it to you automatically, and that I gave myself to you no holds barred, but... Well I have never had to submit to anyone sexually and I wasn't sure if it would mean that you liked that kind of thing." The words tumbled out. I have a bad habit of babbling to him. Its a good thing he thinks its cute now or it would be really annoying. I'm so articulate with everyone else, my words carefully thought out and picked before hand. But with him the words come out sometimes before they are even thoughts in my head. I hadn't realized that I needed a _reason_ to trust him beyond what he'd already earned as my protector in the war. But this was different. I had no idea what all of his interests sexually were. I didn't _think _he would be like that...but I needed him to prove it to me. And he had.

"Oh there is a thin line between pleasure and pain," he said slowly. A wicked smile curved his lips. "A line I intend for us to explore. But it doesn't turn me on to think of causing you real injury or hurt. I'm not a sadist, Hermione." He paused and my rational side knew what he was telling me and treasured the knowledge. My libido had forgotten the rest and just wanted to know _when _we would be exploring that line... "I don't want you to ever truly fear anything that I do to you. I will push you beyond your comfort zone, I will show you things that might shock you or offend you. I will do all the things that I like to you and I expect you to not complain. But I will _never_ truly hurt you. That much you can trust. And you are always free to walk away."

Now that shut up my libido and got my rationality in full function again. I accepted fully that he would never hurt me. It warmed me like stepping into a hot bath and chasing away a chill that has soaked into your bones. But always free to walk away? Why didn't he understand yet that I _wouldn't_ live with this curse? I started to say so and he stopped me.

"You think that you need to stay to find your cure, but I want you to remember that I am not forcing you to stay. I am not forcing you to submit to me. Your life isn't in danger. You could leave tomorrow and go about your day normally. You could decide that you are willing to take the time to search for the cure yourself. You are my submissive, not my prisoner." He tightened his hands on mine. "You _always_ have a choice. You can stay and be mine, or you can leave."

He stared down at with burning intensity in his eyes. This was important to him, I could tell. Later on, when I found out why it had meant so much to him, I wanted to cry for him. For his fear that he could ever do to me what had been done to him. Even unaware of the reasons, the fact that he wanted me to know without a doubt that I was free to go at any time only reinforced that cherished, treasured feeling that he had been slowly building in me. I took all the love that built up and built up in me until I felt like I might burst with it and put it in that little box I was saving for us.

Then I turned in his arms. I could feel him tense to push me away, to turn me back so I couldn't see his scars so I buried my face against his neck. my arms came around him in a tight embrace.

"Thank you," I whispered again.

"Stop thanking me," he said roughly, putting his arms hesitantly around me. I could tell it was new to him, but the fact that he was _trying _for me meant so much. My chest got tight with emotion and I took a deep breath and put that in the box as well. Then I smiled.

"No," I said cheekily. I couldn't see his face, but I could practically feel his smile. "That much is still mine to do or not do." Neither of us said anything for a long while. My hands slowly stroked down his back. Ever so softly my fingers traced the raised lines of scars that marred his skin. I moved slowly, knowing that at any moment he might make me stop. I treasured the contact, the intimacy of it. It was how I could show my love without saying it, the way he had earlier. I relaxed in his arms, melting into a big gooey puddle of bliss. "You really are a good man," I whispered. It was my last conscious thought before falling asleep.

Words that got me fucked good and hard, I might add. But I loved it. So I can't complain. I still feel bad for causing him so much confusion the next day, but it needed to be said. Because it was true then and its true now.

And right now I'm feeling particularly sentimental about my husband. I know exactly where he will be right now. In the kids' playroom, in the big oversized rocking chair, one twin in the crook of each arm and our son against his chest, all three of them asleep, their little faces rosy and content, completely relaxed and safe in his arms. He'll be looking down at them, watching them sleep. I can already picture the look on his face. Its the same look he always gets when he sees them like this, carefree and happy. Its a look of infinite tenderness, of endless love, of fierce pride. Its the look of a man desperately in love with his family. Sometimes it looks like he's in pain because the emotion is so strong. I know in those moments he's praying its all real and he's wondering what he's done to deserve such a beautiful family. And then the look turns terrifyingly black. And I know he's thinking of what he will do to anyone or anything that tries to take us away from him. Anything that threatens that which he loves. And he will need me to kiss the tension from his face and tell him that we will always be here. That we will always love him. That we are his, all of us, his forever. And we are. His family, his whole world.

I need to go find him now, and kiss a certain black look from his face. And we will put the children to bed and then he'll carry me to our room. On a night like tonight there won't be any kinky outfits, there won't be anything but that same intensity of the night we'd first made love without him even realizing it. He'll hold me tightly, showing me with his body the feelings that words are inadequate to express.

**_Ok guys, I just finished writing this and I'm seriously tearing up right now. Its a good thing my husband will be home in a few minutes. We don't have kids yet, but they are coming soon...and this will be him. I always put my husband into the best bits of my romantic heroes, but the end of this chapter hits home almost like no other has. I am feeling very lucky right now. The luckiest woman in the whole damn world, in fact. I do believe I will take him upstairs and we will do exactly what Hermione and Sev will do. 'Night, all. : )_**


	20. Hermione 5

5

Ok, so that last bit was very emotionally intense for me. Don't laugh, I do get emotional, just not as much as other women because I tend to be so rational. Hell, can you imagine Sev with an emotional woman? No? Good. Don't go imagining my husband with any other women. Ever. He's mine, damn it.

Anyways, this next bit will be tricky for me to put down. Not because of the kinky parts, but because the majority of that next day seriously sucked. We'd just had this wonderful night...and then he turned back into a little shit the next day. I mean, serious stick-up-his-ass, bite-your-head-off stuff. And the worst thing was, I hadn't a clue what I'd done to earn his ire. It actually brought back to mind my days in school, which was a little disconcerting let me tell you, because no one wants to think back to the time when the man you're currently fucking was your teacher. Its just...grodie. I mean, I can't ever forget the years he spent as my snarky potions professor. Nor would I want to. But I try to disconnect the scary man I met when I was eleven from the loving, sometimes still snarky man that is my husband. Our age difference doesn't bother me at all, but its just odd for me to think of him back when he was still in love with my best friend's dead mother. I'm not jealous of what he felt for Lily- its what kept me and my friends alive, and its what turned him back to the light all those years ago. But that doesn't mean that I want to spend any time thinking back to when he was in love with her.

So there I was, baffled and getting more miffed by the minute. Ever since he'd stormed out on me that morning, I had tried to turn my mind to other things. Usually I am very good at compartmentalizing. How else do you think I got such good marks in school whilst trying to save the world? But that day I couldn't focus on anything but the way Sev had been acting. He didn't make my tea. I tried to tell myself that he just forgot. Which actually hurt much more than it should have. So what if he forgot my tea? But it stung. And worse was the thought that he'd done it intentionally. Purposely hadn't made it because it was something I liked and he was punishing me somehow. But what had been my crime?

He ignored me at lunch and snapped at me that he wasn't coming to dinner. I was practically tearing my hear out by the time night fell. What the hell was going on? I pulled another comfort book out to flip through (_Hogwarts, A History_ this time...another one I'd memorized every line of six years ago) and settled into my chair to wait him out. It got later and later. I stifled a dozen yawns and glared determinately at his door. Was he hoping I'd be in bed when he finally came out? That I would run away rather than face him? Fat chance. The Gryffindor in me, as well as the woman in me, wouldn't allow that.

Finally, the door to his study opened. Despite my earlier convictions, I felt a frisson of trepidation. He was a very powerful man. I trusted him, but he could be scathing when he wanted. I had no desire to come under the lash of his tongue. I didn't feel quite up to verbally sparring with him after the day I'd had. Instead of storming up to him and demanding an explanation which had been my original intention, I pretended to be absorbed in my book. It wasn't exactly the cowards way out...but it wasn't exactly courageous either. I saw him stop just inside my peripheral vision. He was staring at me. I couldn't quite read his expression. He ran a hand through his hair, which I'd learned he only did when extremely agitated. I still pretended to be wholly engrossed in my book. Only when he cleared his throat to get my attention did I finally look up. I offered a small smile- as if I hadn't seen him come in, as if I hadn't spent the whole day agonizing over what could possibly be wrong, as if he hadn't treated me like a second class citizen from dawn onward. He didn't smile back. Shit.

I went to him when he asked (ok, well he actually ordered, but I like to pretend it was a polite suggestion) and as we went up the stairs I tried to ask him what was wrong. He seemed even angrier and told me nothing was wrong. Riiiight. And they serve popsicles in hell.

When we got upstairs he gestured me through the door and didn't follow me. I turned and saw him standing just outside the doorway. He had his hands braced on doorjamb, his head down as if fighting some terrible inner battle. I could see the muscles in his shoulders and arms flex and bunch. I was struck by just how powerful this man really was. When he finally looked up, there was a look of desolation and pain so acute on his features that it made me ache for him. It was gone in a millisecond, replaced by single minded determination. I flashed him my half-smile again. He kept his face carefully blank then and came into the room, closing the door behind him. I actually jumped a little at the sound, I was so worked up. I gave a nervous laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.

Nothing. Talk about a tough room.

He told me to strip and I did, then turned and got into the bed without being told. He strode purposley over to the bed and turned me over to my hands and knees. Nothing unusual yet. He waited a moment, probably making sure I wasn't going to turn back and look at him. When I stared ahead obediently, I heard him taking his clothes off. Then he was up on the bed behind me. After only the slightest touch to see how wet I was, he slammed into me. I almost gasped. It wasn't painful, but I was shocked. He'd never been like this before. Even at his roughest he took more time to get me ready. As he started to move, his hand snaked around my hips and stroked me. My body sat up to attention, swallowing down earlier surprise to focus only on the pleasure now. I adjusted quickly and was just starting to push back onto him, to give as well as I got, when something...unexpected happened.

So, lets get this out of the way right now. I have said already that my sexual experience, while perfectly passable, was fairly simple. I'd heard of lots of different crazy things people did during sex, and I'd formed opinions about a few of them in a clinical way. When he'd been trying to scare me away, Sev had mentioned taking my ass. It had sent an unexpected jolt of pleasure through me at the time. When I'd considered it before, in the abstract and remote way of someone who never expects to really be in that position, I'd never found it to seem particularly exciting. From what I'd read and heard it was something that some guys liked that could be really painful for the woman if it wasn't done right. I'd always assumed that if I was ever with someone who wanted to try it, I would be willing to attempt it—in a very controlled, very slow and cautious manner. So while Sev's dirty talk had been a turn on, having him actually touch me there scared the hell out of me.

Another thing I just want to add on this subject is that I can't suggest this manner of introduction to this act. It worked for me, for us. Sev knew exactly what he was doing and (though it didn't seem like it at the time) was very careful to do it right. I know it sounds hypocritical coming from someone as submissive as me, but don't read this and then go off and tell your boyfriends to hold you down and roughly fuck your ass. Now, if you have your own personal Sev, that's different. And if you have your own personal Sev then you've already done it and experienced the holy-mother-of-Godrick-is-it-possible-to-die-by-or gasm pleasure that can come from it. But if you don't have your own personal Sev like I am lucky enough to have, then don't try this at home boys and girls.

Back to the sex...I gasped and squirmed away from his touch when his fingers touched me there. I could feel a very strange cool, slippery sensation where his fingers touched. It was odd, disconcerting, and I'll admit, a little scary. He pulled me back roughly and touched me again, more insistently. I tried to turn to look at him.

"Don't," he snapped at me. There was such venom in his voice that I didn't even consider disobeying. "We are going to do something a little different tonight, pet. I think when we first discussed this venture I promised to take your ass. And I'm a man of my word."

He sounded so dark, angry and tense, like a stranger. I was tense and frightened and I didn't know what to think. This wasn't how I imagined my first encounter of this sort to go and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. And he didn't seem prepared to give me time to sort it out in my head.

"Severus, I'm not-" I didn't get a chance to try and figure out what I was going to say, because he cut me off.

"Unless you're physically hurt, don't say another fucking word." He thrust deeply into me to punctuate his words. A shudder of pleasure went through me, despite my unease. He had learned my body so quickly, memorized my every sweet spot so that he could pluck my body like a harp and make it sing for him. "This is what I want to do tonight, pet. And so its what we are doing. So either shut up...or get out." Then he stopped moving all together, letting me decide. Always, it came down to my decision. My choice. Stay and submit, or leave. I tried to think clearly, to decide rationally if this was what I wanted but all I could focus on was the hard length of him buried deeply inside of me, the pleasure throbbing inside me building and building. And it all came down to one crystalline point. I didn't want to leave him.

My decision made, my whole body relaxed. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

"You won't hurt me," I whispered. I don't know if it was a reminder to him or to myself. I needed to hear the words out loud and he didn't seem inclined to say them right then. But I knew they were true. Whatever else he was, whatever else he would do, I knew he would never consciously hurt me or cause me injury. I reminded myself of all the other times he'd had my body totally at his mercy and never once caused me any pain. I closed my eyes as he started moving his hand against me again, trying hard to breathe normally.

"Relax," he snapped at me.

"I'm trying!" I bit out. I half expected him to snarl some insult but he didn't. He just kept pressing against me; maybe even a little more gently. I took in a deep breath and made a conscious effort to relax my muscles. Just a little more pressure and he was able to slip one finger into me. I gasped.

Let me just say, that if you've never had anything go in there, then you have absolutely no idea what it feels like. You might think you can guess. But you can't. At all. Its the strangest sensation that first time. Its odd and disconcerting and uncomfortable.

That aside, as soon as he started rocking his hips again, stroking my clit while his cock throbbed inside of me, I discovered the weirdest thing I'd ever experienced up to that point in my life. It felt..._good_. My brain kept telling my body that I must have some wires crossed because there was no way this felt good, but there was no denying it. It was erotic because of its strangeness. It was an entirely new sensation and somehow, impossibly, as he stroked three nerve hotspots at once, I was loving it. I was on sensory overload, my head trying desperately to keep up with everything going on. Before my brain could catch up, by body left it in the dust and raced toward orgasm. My muscles started to tense as I got close to that explosive precipice. I started gasping my breaths, pleasure shooting through me-

And he pulled out! I let out what I'm sure was a very ladylike garble meant to mean something along the lines of, 'why, Severus, I do believe you have withdrawn only moments before I was able to achieve orgasm. Would you kindly put that back so I can finish before I go stark raving mad from deprivation and leap at you?' and in actuality came out as "Gaaahhh-whh-ooohhhhh!" Like I said. Very ladylike.

Thankfully he didn't have time to laugh at me. Sev moved the hand that was between my legs, twisting so that he could sink two of his long fingers into me and still stroke my clit with his thumb. I closed my eyes in pleasure once again, my orgasm so close I could taste it. Before I could snatch the prize right in front of me, he pulled his other finger out of me and then repositioned the now very slippery head of his cock against my ass. My brain started screaming RED ALERT RED ALERT – INTRUDER EMMINENT! But my body was too caught up to care. He kept stroking between my legs with deliberate slowness, his fingers curling inside of me and rubbing against a sensitive spot guaranteed to make me melt. I kept waiting for my orgasm to crash into me, but it stayed just out of reach.

It seemed like hours but I know it was only moments. I thought I would go crazy if I couldn't come. I needed release, any way I could get it. I was desperate, a mindless slave to my need. I actually found myself pressing back onto him, knowing that if I could just get him to fill me, any way, any how, I would finally get relief. My poor brain was still trying to cope, rationality screaming at me that I must be going crazy because I should be afraid of this- it could hurt!- but my libido had brought along a few hundred thousand friends and they were all screaming _yes yes anything!_- and drowning rationality out.

When I started pushing back onto him, Sev finally started moving his hips again. It was painstakingly slow. He only moved a fraction of an inch at a time, giving my body time to adjust to him. I didn't want slow and cautious right then, though. I wanted him, all of him. There was no pain at all, just intense, unimaginable pleasure. When he was finally buried all the way inside of me I wanted to scream from the rapture coursing through my body. He pulled back, then pushed slowly back into me. I could no longer move- just accept the pleasure and grip the sheets as if they were my only link to the world and without my white-knuckle hold on them I would simply combust and float away.

Then when he pulled back again, my body snapped back to life. I couldn't wait any longer. I had to come, _now. _Before he could slowly thrust back into me, I pushed back and hard, burying him into me. I didn't know how else convey what I needed. My words were gone, all thoughts but those of pleasure gone. But he knew what I wanted. He stopped moving slowly and gently. He thrust hard and fast, taking me roughly. His thumb started stroking my clit quickly and his fingers were moving in and out of me.

"Harder," I finally managed to moan. I wanted more. More of him, more of this. I was there, _there. _"Fuck me harder!" I was screaming at him and didn't care, couldn't care, could only feel and ride the pleasure and burn burn _burn_ from the inside out. He pumped into me harder and harder, fucking me powerfully, masterfully, savagely. It was everything I could have ever wanted in that moment, things my brain couldn't comprehend to ask for. He was taking me and dominating me and marking me as his in a way that I was helpless to resist. I couldn't do anything but let the fire consume me and submit myself to the pleasure he was lashing me with. It seemed to go on forever. I heard his own hoarse cry behind me but the sound came as though from far away because of the roar of blood rushing in my head. He swelled, throbbing inside of me, and then his own release came over him.

Finally my voice gave out and I stopped screaming. I felt so weak I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold myself up. In a slow, deliberate movement Severus pulled out of me. We both moaned. When he was out, I collapsed unceremoniously into a heap on the bed. My arms were sprawled awkwardly under me but I couldn't rouse myself to care. My racing heart was starting to calm and I could finally breathe again. Our bodies were both covered in sweat but there was a slight breeze floating through the room and cooling us off as we lay there. I tried to put my brain back to rights. If anyone could have seen into my head right then it would have looked as if there had been a tornado. A dozen tornadoes. Misconceptions, protests and fears were scattered on the floor where I'd discarded them. The walls were streaked with the color of pleasure as if a bomb of it had gone off and coated every surface. Words floated in the air in meaningless strings. I should say something...but every time I tried to snatch at the words they slipped through my fingers.

Before the dust had settled in my brain and I could form words, Sev grabbed me and carried me to the bathroom. When we were in the shower he stood me up. I was still leaning on him for support because I honestly didn't think my legs would hold me up. The hot water that sprayed out of the shower felt like heaven. My face tipped down until my forehead was resting against the muscles of Sev's chest. My eyes were closed but I could appreciate the masculine beauty of him even without seeing him. (Don't tell him I described him as beautiful...he'll throw a fit. But he really is beautiful in a manly way.) I still wanted to say something to him but had no idea what to say.

In my silence, Sev started washing my hair. I'm sure it seems like an innocuous act, but it touched me deeply. I think that's what snapped me back into my right mind. It was just so...sweet. So very un-Snape-like. And I couldn't help wonder if this was an apology? Was he uncertain? Was he rewarding me? I didn't care. I just enjoyed the contact. His fingers felt like heaven as they massaged my scalp and worked shampoo through my thick hair. When he was done and letting the water rinse it clean, I finally got my arms to function properly and put them around him in a hug. I took a few deep breaths just holding him. I hoped that I would get to hold him more often. It soothed me.

A moment later, Sev slipped one crooked finger under my chin and tipped my face up to him. I let my hands wander over his back as I blinked up at him. I wore what I'm sure can only be described as a stupid grin on my face. I felt as if I'd stepped into a dream, a dream with unearthly orgasms and hot showers with even hotter potions professors and love and every other sticky sweet emotion that exists.

"How do you feel?" he asked roughly. I was about to answer without thinking but stopped. How _was _I feeling? I took mental stock of my body, flexing various muscles to make sure I hadn't hurt anything in my hedonistic orgasm. Nothing hurt. I was sure I'd feel like I ran a marathon tomorrow, but I could deal with that. All that was left was this disconnected feeling.

"Loose," I said finally. It was the best way to describe it. I mean, bloody fucking hell that had been intense. My body was still trying to recover from that much pleasure.

"Loose," he repeated the word as if it were foreign to him.

"Boneless," I added. "Tired. Sated. Shocked."

"Shocked?" His voice took on a hard edge. I thought it was anger at first. Then I realized it was trepidation. My heart melted for him.

"I didn't know it could be like that," I admitted. "I had absolutely no idea. Now I feel foolish for putting up any fight at all. I should have known. You were right, Sev. I need to trust you." I hugged him tightly and rested my cheek against his sternum. I wondered if it was like that for everyone. Somehow I was fairly certain that it was especially enjoyable because it was _him._

"You...enjoyed that, then?" His usually snide voice sounded almost uncertain. He was covering it well, but I could hear it under his rough words.

"Enjoyed?" I looked back up at him and cocked a brow. "That was more than just enjoyment. That was beyond anything I've ever felt. It was like I'd only felt the tip of the iceberg with all my past experience with pleasure and then all of a sudden I got all the rest of it at once!"

"Oh."

I blinked at him. That was all he had to say? I'd just had the best orgasm of my life and all he could say was oh? I wanted to say 'well fuck you very much,' but resisted.

"Oh? That's it? _Oh?_ You didn't enjoy it too?" I tried to scowl at him but I was face to face with the king of scowling. He didn't seem affected. He returned it with a scathing look of his own.

"Don't be stupid," he scoffed. "Of course I did. I just assumed that you-" he paused and then started again. "I thought-" He stopped again and ran a hand through his wet hair. Was he really that agitated by this? "God fucking damn it! I thought you would hate me for doing that to you!"

"Hate you?" Shock colored my tone. I had no idea what he meant. "Why would I hate you?"

"Don't be obtuse, Hermione. I know you got pleasure from it but-" I started laughing before he could finish.

"Got pleasure from it? Gee, what gave me away? Was it the five minute long screaming orgasm?" I batted my wet lashes up at him. He took my chin in his hand and glared at me without any real malice.

"Careful with that smart mouth of yours, pet." His voice had none of its usual steel. Under the sensual growl I could hear the first hints of amusement. I smiled.

"I don't know...if this is what happens every time I piss you off, I might just have to do it more often."

"Once again, Hermione. You did not _piss me off._"

"Say what you will, but something I did got your knickers in a twist." I smirked at him and his mouth popped open. I was fairly certain it was the first time anyone had ever said that to him.

"I was merely attempting to show you, that I am not a _good man_. You seem to be under a serious misimpression about me." He spoke with slow deliberateness. As if he were trying to explain theoretical mechanics to a first year.

"Is that what all this was about? The whole day, you being cranky as a bear with a sore tooth was all because I told you that you were a good man last night?" I put my hand on his chest right over his heart. This was all his way of...protecting me? From himself? I decided right then that he was crazy.

"I suppose you could put it that way."

"And tonight...that has been your way of opening my eyes or something?"

"Showing you the type of man I really am, yes."

"And now I'm supposed to hate you, or think less of you?" I couldn't believe he could believe that, but he nodded.

"Its what I had assumed."

"Severus Snape, when did you become an idiot?" I glared at him and didn't back away when his eyes narrowed on me.

"I beg your pardon," there was a bite to his voice but I held my ground. Or tile, I guess, as we were still in she shower.

"Thats right, you're being an idiot! A dolt! A nitwit! You're dominant and forceful and rough and you take what you want and don't put up with any bullshit. You're kinky as hell. But you've always made sure I was satisfied, you've promised never to hurt me and you've kept that promise. You made damn sure I knew that I could walk away- even though you knew that I wouldn't. Tonight you did something that I didn't want to do and I was afraid of. But you told me to take it or leave and I made my decision. And then you made it the most pleasurable thing I've ever experienced. How is that supposed to show me you aren't a good man?" I searched his face, trying to see through his eyes, how he could possibly think those terrible things about himself. Didn't he see even a fraction of what I saw in him?

"I forced you to do something you didn't want to do," he bit out. He said the words as if they were bitter in his mouth.

"Yeah, Sev, you did." I bit my lip and tried to concentrate on how to say what I wanted to say. How to express what I felt. "You're forcing me to be open to new things. Things that if I wasn't in this position I would never try. But things that I love. You didn't frighten me or convince me that you're a bastard. You reinforced my trust in you more than anything else could have. I won't argue with you about sex stuff again. Ever. You want a pliant and willing sex toy, you've got it. If a day ever comes that you break your promise to me or we do something I can't like, then I'll reconsider. But for now, maybe truly for the first time, I'm yours. Wholly and completely." I meant every word and I willed him to believe me. I'd fallen in love with him the night before and tonight I was surrendering everything to him. Fears I didn't know I'd had were washed away.

Sev took a deep breath and then his arm came around me. He pulled me close against his body and cradled my head with his other hand. He kissed me, not the punishing kiss and not the almost-love kiss. It was relief and gratitude and shock. Then it dissolved into that almost-love kiss. Slow and sweet and sensual. When we parted, we were both breathelss. Severus kept his head bent down to mine, our foreheads resting against each other. With every breath our noses brushed in a way that reminded me of muggle Eskimo kisses.

"Severus?" I whispered. He blinked at me in a soft, unfocused way.

"Yes?" His voice was deep and husky.

"Just don't expect me to be a mindless submissive puppet outside the bedroom, ok?" I didn't think it would be a problem, but I wanted to make that point perfectly clear. He chuckled darkly.

"With that smart mouth of yours, pet, how could I expect anything less?" I smiled and laughed with him. We were rinsing off the last of the soap suds and getting ready to step out of the shower when something occurred to me. Something huge. Somewhere along the way, 'pet' had stopped being an insult or even a derisive nickname. It had become an endearment. Severus wasn't a man to say things like my love or dear or sweetheart. But every time he called me pet after that, those were the things I heard.

He still calls me pet to this day, though now he mostly uses it in the bedroom so that the kids don't pick up the habit and start calling their friends pet. Then we would have some serious exlpaining to do. I can just imagine Ginny demanding to know why my son is calling her daughter his pet. Though, admittedly, I've always harbored secret hopes that someday Lily Potter will become Lily Snape. A strange thought, perhaps, that someday Lily will finally come into the Snape family through my son. We are all of us inextricably bound together. Time runs ever onward and yet somehow history repeats itself. Sev is worried that if I keep allowing the children to play together one of the twins will end up married to one of Ron's sons and become 'mother to a ginger herd.' I always laugh, but the possibility has occurred to me. Is the universe correcting past wrongs? Without Voldermort, would Sev have ended up with Lily? Would I have ended up with Ron?

If that's the case, I can't help but be grateful for the way things did unfold. Because I wouldn't trade my life for anything.

And on that very sappy note, I'm off to bake some cookies for the kids. Sev complains about the mess in the kitchen but he eats just as many cookies as the children do so I know he doesn't really mind. Maybe I'll even make him help me bake them. Last time he helped he ended up with a Hermione-sized flour hand print on the seat of his black trousers for the rest of the day from where I'd felt him up. Maybe I can get him to put a few Severus-sized flour hand prints in some creative places on me before the kids wake up from their nap...

_**Ok, everyone, I'm going to shamelessly beg for reviews again. I got so little feedback on the last chapter! I know it was my fault for posting it at 1 am on a Monday night/Tuesday morning, but even still...I need to know what you all think! Pretty please with sugar and a chocolate covered Severus sex god on top?**_


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